


I Like Your Lips ‘Cause They Are Dark Like My Heart

by UkiTheMaid



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Feelings Jams, First Times at literally everything for Undertaker, Fluff, I have no idea what tags to put, Internal Conflict, M/M, Making Out, Pining, Rating for later chapters, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Teasing, mostly kayfabe compliant, past trauma, some additional characters here and there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 70,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UkiTheMaid/pseuds/UkiTheMaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Undertaker is not exactly the type of person who enjoys developing feelings for others. In fact, steering clear from those is his main concern. But he wasn't expecting to cross paths with someone that would make that so hard to do.</p>
<p>On the fipside, Goldust always had a fascination for unique individuals, and The Undertaker is like a goldmine of uniqueness. A goldmine he's bent on exploring, one step at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Longest Month of Your Life

**Author's Note:**

> This whole mess started because of the WWF stuff I watched concerning Goldust and Undertaker's feud back in 1996, because I clearly have nothing better to do. But seriously, Goldust's thirst was too real and I couldn't help myself but ship these two. And since I have more thoughts about this ship than one-shots I can write, I figured WHY NOT MASH UP EVERY THOUGHT IN A SINGLE FIC??
> 
> The beginning of this fic picks things up right after their first confrontation, and Undertaker is already suffering with weird thoughts and feelings he most definitely doesn't want.

Fingers snapped in front of the Undertaker's face and he jolted on his seat, head tilting up and his gaze falling on Paul Bearer's ghastly face.

"Were you listening to anything I was saying?" He asked in his usual high-pitched voice, visibly annoyed by being flat out ignored.

Listening? Undertaker couldn't say he was. But for the sake of his poor ears - because he wouldn't hear the end of it if he admitted he wasn't paying attention - he simply nodded at the other man.

Bearer didn't quite believe that nod, but decided to let that go. Still, there seemed to be something terribly wrong going on with Undertaker the past couple days. He was far more distant than normal, to the point he didn't even seem to be able to focus on his regular job of building coffins and putting together flower arrangements. His fighting skills weren't affected though, as far as he was concerned, but he surely wasn’t acting normal.

“Did that... degenerate got to your head?” Paul's tone shifted from annoyance to pure disgust.

Undertaker firmly shook his head. It was another straight up lie though. He would never admit it, not even to Bearer, that yes, Goldust had gotten to his head since they last met face to face. He didn't know if he should commend or destroy Goldust for being able to do such a thing. No one ever affected him so strongly, and it was uncomfortable, unnatural and he wanted that feeling gone.

Usually he never thought much about whoever he was going up against in his upcoming matches, aside from the usual need to smash their heads by piledriving them against the mat. But with Goldust it was being a little different. Undertaker was still thinking about Goldust's words and actions more than a week later after they happened, which were things he would usually not give much attention to. Nothing ever really stuck with him when confronting his rivals, except stuff he could use to fuel his resentment towards them. But not this time.

Thankfully, their match was going to take place in just three days, so he could just throw Goldust inside that golden casket where he belonged and be done with it. And most likely move on to setting down Mankind in a resting place of his own.

At least that's what he hoped for.

Only his match on Sunday could really tell.

When the night of that fated event rolled in, there was a lot of agitation in the back, in between and during matches. Among all the people running up and down corridors and closing and opening doors, Marlena casually paced around, cigar in hand and the sound of her heels clicking softly on the floor being drowned by the noise coming from the crowd outside and people having loud conversations with each other. She looked as cold and distant as ever, just darting glances to a few people here and there that looked her way.

_What a sad bunch of bores..._ She thought to herself before knocking on the door to Goldust's locker room and entering without really waiting for an answer. She knew she didn't need one.

As soon as the door closed behind her, she opened a smile, before taking a drag from her cigar.

“You still applying your make up, dear?” She asked, smoke leaving her lips as she talked. She walked up to her director's chair, which was placed next to where Goldust was sitting.

“Marlena, darling, you know you cannot rush perfection.” He replied, smiling back, a brush on his hand he was using to cover his face and neck in gold.

“I am aware.” Marlena watched Goldust for a while then spoke up again. “You seem unusually upbeat about this whole thing.”

“Hm?” Goldust shifted his gaze from the mirror to Marlena, the tip of his brush still near his face as he gave her a mildly confused look.

“What's with you and graveyard boy anyway?” She straight up asked, leaning back on her chair and taking a long drag from her cigar.

“Ah, Undertaker. The Phenom.” Goldust's smile was back on his lips within seconds, and he resumed his work with the make up. “I'm just... interested.”

“You are not just interested. I know you well. I know when you are 'interested'. This is not it.” Marlena casually reached for the champagne bottle resting on the nearby table. Was Goldust really so sure he would win he went ahead and bought that to celebrate later on?

“Alright, you got me.” Goldust put his brush down and raised his hands in a sign of defeat. “There's a lot more to this. It's just...” He sighed, throwing his head back and leaning on his seat. “He just looks so genuine, so **real**. He's unlike anyone I've ever met. Everything he does is black and white. His intentions are always clear. That fascinates me.”

Marlena nodded, visibly amused by Goldust's words and his mildly enthralled tone.

“You know how back in Hollywood almost everyone tries too hard? How everyone is just so fake and plastic you might as well call them Ken and Barbie?” Goldust looked at Marlena, his facial expression very serious. “I'm tired of it. I'm tired of fake. I need something real, someone who just is who they are.” And he couldn’t help but wonder how ironic it was that someone like him, who made a point of covering himself in make up, was far more authentic than most people he knew.

There was a soft laugh from Marlena, and she leaned closer to Goldust.

“Everyone from Hollywood is fake? Even me?” She teased.

“Oh, dear Marlena...” Goldust shook his head, cupping her face with his hands. “You are a gift. You always stay by my side when no one else does and you were one of the most important things to ever happen to me.” He softly kissed her lips, smiling right after. “I don't want you to ever forget that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not.” Marlena leaned back again, running her fingers through her hair. “Still, don’t let your little crush get in the way of your performance tonight.”

“Oh, please, it’s not a crush.” Goldust rolled his eyes, resuming his make-up work. “Crushes are for high school teenagers. I’m a full grown man.” He sounded almost insulted. “And I’m not going to get all smitten about him and not deliver a stunning match. It’s almost like you don’t know me!”

“Alright, alright…” Marlena nodded, smiling softly, deciding they had talked enough and leaving Goldust be to finish his make-up.

When the match finally took place, it was a disaster, at least from Undertaker’s point of view. He almost got the lid of the casket closed on him twice, which was already embarrassing enough, considering who he was up against. But to be ambushed yet again by Mankind when he was just so close to victory was just rubbing salt in the wound. In the end, when Mankind closed the coffin on him, he couldn’t think of anything else but escape. Escape from the building, Paul Bearer’s inevitable scolding, the noisy crowd… Everything. Fortunately, one of the perks of being undead was the ability to simply vanish out of sight when needed.

He could only imagine Paul’s reaction when the casket was opened and he wasn’t there anymore.

Undertaker was now far, far away from that ring, at the edge of town, hiding in the darkness of some nearby woods. He was sitting on a large rock, hands on his head and elbows resting on his thighs. He felt so strangely powerless and pathetic, his blood boiling.

Who that guy thought he was to make a mockery out of his moves like that?

And why was he letting those things get to his head so much? Why was he allowing himself to get so easily affected? It wasn’t common, or normal. He wasn’t even considering Mankind as a factor right now, as his mind seemed to be solely focused on that golden-faced egomaniac and how he just… how he made him look like a fool.

And what made him angrier, not at Goldust, but at himself, were the small, passing thoughts on the back of his mind that insisted on popping up. Thoughts on how the other actually put up a decent fight. How he actually showed a lot of strength. How actually impressive it was he was able to almost eliminate him twice on his own.

Why was he even considering commending Goldust’s skills at any level? Why the idea of complimenting Goldust crossed his mind twice already in the space of two weeks?

Undertaker clenched one of his fists in sheer frustration and punched the rock he was sitting on, letting out a huff of air. He just wanted those thoughts out of his mind already, in every way, shape or form.

The literal worst part of all that was the fact Bearer would just know Goldust had affected him, despite Undertaker telling him otherwise. And, dear Lord, he was not ready to hear the entire discourse that would originate from it.

He simply decided it was for the best to just stay on those woods for the night. He knew Bearer was most likely having a heart attack back in the building still, trying to figure out where he went to, but he figured his manager would survive.

In the meantime, Goldust was popping his bottle of champagne open to celebrate his victory, making a point to invite Mankind over for a glass, which he surprisingly accepted. Goldust didn’t really mind the other’s mental instability and bizarreness. Actually, since he was strongly benefiting from the bone Mankind had to pick with Undertaker, it was only polite to thank the other man for his help. It was a little jarring to see the deadman being so roughly overpowered, but he did his best to disregard that.

After all, matches were strictly business. And Goldust never mixed business with pleasure. That was just extremely unprofessional.

The next day, Undertaker’s frustration had simmered down considerably. Spending the night in those silent woods helped a great deal. And so did punching tree trunks until his knuckles were sore. Still, there was the unavoidable meeting with Paul that day, which he certainly wasn’t looking forward to. But in the end he found himself standing in front of the door to Bearer’s room at the hotel they were staying, bits of leaves and sticks stuck to his clothes and hair.

It was still early, but he figured Bearer was already awake, so he knocked on the door, and it opened way faster than he expected, as if Paul was just behind it, waiting for someone to knock.

As soon as the door was opened, Undertaker’s eyes focused on Paul’s less than satisfied expression, eyes seemingly darker than usual. The shorter man just stepped away from the door and Undertaker entered. He didn’t need Bearer to tell him to do so.

He walked up to a chair in the room, almost flopping down on it. He was a little exhausted, but knew he wouldn’t be able to rest. At least not for a while, considering Paul looked even more displeased than he thought he would be.

“Would you care to explain what happened yesterday?” Bearer said between his teeth, not really wanting to be mad at Undertaker, but his irritation was getting the best of him.

Undertaker didn’t even know where to begin explaining what was going on, and it was also hard to apologize for not performing adequately the previous night, because it was just hard for him to apologize in general. It was like those types of words always got stuck in his throat whenever he tried to say them out loud. Even to someone he considered family like Bearer.

“I do not have an explanation, aside from not feeling quite as myself lately.” That was as close as he could get from being “open” to Paul.

There was a groan from the other man, and he began pacing around the room in short, nervous steps.

“I knew it! Oh, I knew that scum had messed with your head!” Bearer gesticulated with his hands wildly as he spoke. “That… that… Oh, why did I let things get like this?”

“It is not your fault.” Undertaker said, which was true. It wasn’t like Paul did things to enable whatever was going on inside his head.

“How could you let that… vile low life get the best of you like that?” Bearer still had his teeth quite clenched, eyes narrow as he looked straight at Undertaker. “How could you let him poison you with his words?”

Undertaker had no explanation for that, so he decided to remain silent.

“This is a disgrace! I’m not letting him get away scot free from doing this to you though, mark my words!” Paul’s voice got more and more high-pitched with every word, as if that was even possible. “I will talk to that manager of his and I will demand you two have a rematch. I will not stand for his insolence, neither will I simply accept him getting help from that… disgusting guard dog he got on his side.”

In all honesty, Undertaker didn’t want a rematch. In fact he didn’t want to be anywhere around Goldust in the near future. He figured if he stayed away from the other that would finally put his conflicting thoughts to rest and he could finally let the issue die out like it should. Because, frankly, being in such close proximity to Goldust the previous night didn’t exactly help, as he found himself constantly being reminded of their _other_ encounter just two weeks before their match, which was the complete opposite of what he thought would happen once he finally got to throw a few punches at Goldust.

He said nothing to Paul though. He knew trying to change his mind once he decided on something was a lost battle. So Undertaker kept on listening to Bearer ramble on and on about how depraved Goldust was, and occasionally get scolded for his performance and how lackluster it was. A few times it occurred to him to simply chockeslam Paul so he would stop talking, because his head was thumping from last night still, but decided against it. After all, he wouldn’t be able to do such a thing to the only family he had.

But… oh, how he wanted to just lay down and rest for a few hours instead of sitting there and pretend he was paying close attention to everything Bearer was saying.

At one point, Undertaker zoned out, and for a brief, peaceful moment, his head was finally empty. No Goldust, no Paul’s voice, no “surprises” from Mankind, nothing.

Fingers soon snapped in front of his face.

“Are you listening to me?”

Then all his thoughts came back in one go, like a tidal wave.

Still, he just nodded at Bearer.

That was going to be a long, long month.


	2. Half Strange, Half Fascinating, Full Enticing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super mega short, but actually this and the first chapter were written to set things up for the next ones (aka explain how Goldust and Undertaker feel towards each other) so no point dragging those on forever, since there'll be way more time to explore longer things from the next chapter on.
> 
> Still, hopefully this chapter is a nice read, even if it's a little on the short side!

Sure enough, just like Paul Bearer said he would, he showed up that night at the door to Goldust’s locker room, demanding Undertaker followed him there so they could confront Marlena and demand the rematch. And if she thought she could sweet talk her way out of that, she got another thing coming.

He pretty much banged on the door, Undertaker standing right behind him, hat and hair pretty much covering his eyes. He did his best not to stare directly at the door, because he didn’t want to risk making eye contact with Goldust. If he was even there in the first place.

The door made a clicking noise and swung open.

“My dear, why are y- … Oh, it’s _you_.” Goldust’s gaze almost immediately dropped to Bearer’s rather unpleasant face when he registered who was at the door, and he did absolutely nothing to disguise his own displeasure. Still, his eyes briefly darted at Undertaker’s tall, dark figure standing right behind the shorter man.

“Where is your manager? I must speak to her.” Paul asked.

“Director. And she isn’t here.” _And even if she was, she wouldn’t want to talk to you_. Goldust thought to himself.

“And when is she arriving?”

“Oh my… Hmm… I’m not quite sure.” Goldust ran his fingers through his long, pale hair. “But if you and your handsome client would like to enter and wait for her, please, be my guest.” His gaze shifted from Bearer to Undertaker, lips curving in a slight smile.

A smile that, thankfully, Undertaker didn’t see, because he was actually doing a good job at avoiding looking at Goldust.

“You really think I am letting my Undertaker stay anywhere near you?” Paul sneered at Goldust, clearly noticing the other’s eyes drifting to his protégé.

“Considering you brought him here with you, doesn’t look like it.” Goldust teased, his smile becoming more arrogant.

“Do not test me.” Bearer grumbled. “I don’t know what you are trying to do with my Undertaker, but I assure you I’ll not allow it.”

Goldust let out a laugh, leaning on the doorframe. “Little man, if I told you only half of what I wanted to do with him, your frail heart would stop on the spot.”

Paul’s eyes widened almost immediately at that, and then squinted as he huffed loudly.

“Yooou… We’ll take our leave. Tell your… director to come talk to me once she has the decency to show up.” Bearer turned on his heels and walked away almost immediately after he finished talking, Undertaker following him suit, doing his very best to ignore the small shiver that insisted on running down his spine in response to Goldust’s last words.

“See you later.” Goldust waved goodbye, holding back a chuckle and watching both men leaving, sizing up Undertaker’s figure. Goodness, what an awfully attractive man, even when all covered up by a coat.

When they were finally out of his sight, he went back inside his room, back resting against the door as soon as he closed it. He was still smiling when he moved away from it to sit down on a small couch nearby, feeling like butterflies had made residence inside his stomach, a foot tapping the floor.

One thing no one could deny: Goldust simply loved toying with others. Not only it was fascinating to watch other’s reactions to his actions, it was also fun. At least for him. Not so much for those he messed with. Sometimes, he admitted, he went a little too far, and consequences weren’t exactly the ones he hoped for. Roddy Piper was a prime example of that. In retrospect, he should have known better than to poke the hot-headed Scottish the way he did.

And that alone should have been enough to teach him a valuable lesson about picking his battles. But the fact remained he found himself pursuing The Undertaker, of all men, and it was equal parts eerie and exciting to do so. And half the fun in it had everything to do with pulling Paul Bearer's leg. But half the creepy part also had everything to do with him.

Obviously Goldust didn't expect Bearer to lash at him the same way Piper did. He hoped and prayed Bearer didn't do such a thing.

He definitely wouldn’t mind if Undertaker took the same route though.

At that thought, Goldust smirked and chuckled to himself, leaning back on the couch. Why, it was a little too early for such thoughts now. Still, it wasn't like he was going to censor himself. It was never his style to do so. And besides it wasn't like this was something he started thinking about overnight. Absolutely not.

It was the main reason why he told Marlena that wasn't just some mindless, inconsequential crush. It went far beyond that.

Goldust wasn't quite sure when he started to develop... whatever it was he was feeling towards Undertaker. He was quite sure he wasn't in love, but he was also certain it was a little more intense than anything he ever felt towards anyone. Which was a little scary, he had to admit. But as he said, he was a grown man, wasn't he? He could handle whatever was going on inside his head, no problem.

Still he had been attracted to Undertaker for quite some time now, even way before Vince made the “sudden” decision of calling a match between them. He knew that weasel of a man had that planned for quite some time now, and decided to drop the bomb on him at the worst time ever. And then he had to pretend to be oh so scared of the big, bad Undertaker, because... what else was he supposed to do? Everyone is scared of him, right? This large, supernatural being no one can quite understand.

But he wasn't scared. Not even a bit. In fact he was allured. And wanted to be the one to finally understand the deadman.

It was the reason why he pushed the boundaries of what he could do the first time he came face to face with Undertaker. And he could push them even further thanks to the “help” Mankind offered him – and that got him to help Mankind in return by repelling the officials when the other decided to wreck that coffin, with Undertaker still inside it. He just hoped Undertaker had no hard feelings about the situation.

He pushed said boundaries hoping his actions and words would stick with the other man. Honestly, he had no idea if his plan worked or not, because it wasn't like he could read the Undertaker easily. Not with him being a monotonous wall like always. And he also couldn't just up and ask the other man about it, because he definitely wasn't going to get an answer. He would most likely get a punch in the gut.

All that was far more complicated than it had any right to be. And in all honesty if he had to keep guessing just to satiate some uncertain feeling he might as well just call it quits and move on to something else.

Although, something told him he wasn't going to let that go so easily. After all, when did he give up of his goals without showing some real determination? He wasn't going to start now, right? Specially when there was such a valuable prize on the line.

Goldust sighed, a little upset. He was thinking too hard about that, wasn't he? Getting his mind full of questions he had no answers to. There was no point into doing such a thing.

Thankfully, the door to the locker room swung open and Marlena entered, distracting him from his thoughts.

“Ah, so glad you are here.” Goldust said, smiling at her.

“Is that so? Why?” Marlena asked, walking up to the room's mirror to fix her hair.

“Paul Bearer came for a visit. Said he wanted to talk to you.”

“Hm? Talk to me?” Marlena's gaze snapped to Goldust's face, eyes a little wide.

“Yes. Didn't tell me what he wanted, but I'm sure he wants to have a rematch after the stunt Mankind pulled.” Goldust stretched on the couch as he spoke.

“Oh... I definitely don't want to talk to him.” Marlena rolled her eyes, leaning against the small table in front of the mirror. “Still, you are probably quite eager to confront Undertaker again, hm?”

“You know me so well, dear Marlena.” Goldust smiled a little wider. “If it makes you feel any better, I will go with you when you go talk to Bearer.”

“Even though I know you are only using this as an excuse to stare at your love affair, yes, I would appreciate it if you came with me.” Marlena looked at Goldust from the corner of her eyes.

Goldust said nothing, and just threw his head back. Marlena knew him far too well. When did that happen?


	3. Deny It All You Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On tonight's episode:
> 
> I lied, because this chapter is just marginally longer than the previous one  
> Also watch as Goldust makes an absolute fool of himself because he's an impatient loser  
> And Undertaker still attempting to shove his feelings to the back of his mind to no avail
> 
> I have no idea how I'm getting these out so fast like this I'm ready for the writer's block to come at me any time now.

One week or so had passed since the Beware of Dog event, and Undertaker still found himself walking in circles around thoughts he would rather forget about completely. There was talk of a rematch due to Bearer's insistence, much to his dismay, but thankfully it was scheduled to a way later date. Honestly, at that point, he didn't care about the Intercontinental title at all. All he cared about was distancing himself from anything that could fuel that knot at the bottom of his stomach even more.

Hoping to achieve that, he put all his body and soul on his upcoming matches. To choke and piledrive other wrestlers gave him a much needed stress relief, cleaned up his head and got him to focus on something else entirely.

But, as soon as his adrenaline began to wear off and he started to lose focus, suddenly all his attention was back on Goldust and his brash attitude. And Undertaker honestly wanted to tear his own head off every time it happened.

It was baffling really. Ever since he was turned undead, he just assumed most of his feelings were washed away along with his mortality, with the only emotions left being anger and resentment. Apparently he was wrong, but he would rather die again then admit such a thing.

The only problem was that he didn't think he could ever die.

And the worst part was that Goldust was most likely reveling on his misery. Thinking he was superior just because he got to his head. Or maybe he wasn't, because Undertaker wasn't letting anything out. In fact nothing about his behaviour would tell anyone – aside from Bearer – that something was bothering him. Thankfully he was very good at covering up his feelings under a layer of indifference, which was something he already did way before he stepped on a ring for the first time.

Although, when Undertaker considered talking to Goldust directly about what was happening, he concluded things were a lot more askew inside his head than he first imagined. He didn't go through with it though, which was a relief.

Still, his gaze seemed to drift to Goldust whenever their paths crossed, and he just  **knew** the other man took notice of it every time, not to mention how that gave away he was not completely unperturbed by Goldust's advances. And that was awkward and made the knot on his stomach grow stronger.

Indeed, Goldust noticed those darting eyes, but chose not to stare back. Mostly because he was sure that would intimidate and discourage Undertaker. He was starting to realize this was going to be a waiting game, and as awful as he was at those, he could do it. Or at least he believed he could, even without being the most patient person in the world. Like it or not, his upbringing didn't do him much good in that regard, considering everything he wanted was always handed to him by his parents, and specially his mother, on a silver platter as soon as he asked for them. He rarely had to wait for anything.

And there he was making an effort to wait for Undertaker to take the next step, which, based on his behaviour, could take a good while. A while Goldust wasn't even slightly prepared for or used to. A while that got him to have second thoughts about this entire thing, but never really quit.

After all, how was one supposed to give up on someone so fascinating?

A few more days passed, and Goldust's patience started to wear very, very thin. Was Undertaker really going to keep that act up forever? Keep on just briefly glancing at him from a distance and pretend he wasn't even a little interested? That was driving Goldust absolutely crazy, and definitely not in the good way. And he certainly wasn't going to let that go on until God knows when. If Undertaker wasn't going to be the bigger person and come talk to him, then he was.

That is, if he was lucky enough to catch the deadman on his own, without his manager around. Did Bearer ever let Undertaker alone? Goldust doubted it. He was always looming around as if Undertaker was some kind of kid who needed supervision every waking hour. What a nuisance...

Goldust wanted to try his luck though, which resulted on him standing in front of Undertaker's locker room one day, taking a few deep breaths. He knew he was being hasty, but honestly, if he didn't do anything he had a feeling he was going to explode any minute now.

He knocked on the door a couple times, not really expecting an answer, if Undertaker was the only one inside. After all, he doubted the other would open the door to anyone, and Paul wouldn't bother knocking in the first place.

He saw the knob turning though, and for a brief moment he held his breath. God, if he had to hear Bearer's creepy voice again...

And he immediately released his breath when Undertaker's figure appeared in front of him. Luck was on his side it seemed.

Undertaker was actually surprised to see Goldust standing there, but was able to keep a neutral face. He didn't say anything though. Just looked at the other man, waiting to see what he had to say.

“Well, I can see you are not the type who greets guests.” Goldust said, arms crossing in front of his chest. “Anyway, so, that's how it's going to be, hm?”

Undertaker blinked a few times, not exactly sure what Goldust was going on about.

“Ugh... Are we just going to keep doing this? You making eyes at me while I pretend I'm not seeing it?” Goldust huffed, arms uncrossing as he rolled his eyes. “I wasn't expecting to go through middle-school level flirting with this.”

There was a moment of silence between them, as Undertaker processed what was just said to him. First, the fact that what he feared actually happened: Goldust did realize he was glancing at him on occasion. Second... flirting? How did he even jump to such a conclusion? Since when simply looking at someone could be considered flirting?

Undertaker remained silent, which only contributed to Goldust's sheer frustration.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me, or are you going to say something?” Goldust uncrossed his arms, pulling on strands of his wig. Why wouldn't he just speak up? “I know I'm a sight to behold but I would appreciate it if you didn't make it look like I'm talking to a wall.”

While Goldust was talking and clearly fuming, Undertaker just stood there, expression unchanged from when he first opened the door, but his eyes were paying very close attention to Goldust's face and gestures. He was just so expressive all around. And he made it look so easy to just speak up. How did he do that? And why all that was so captivating?

It was just when Goldust made a very distressed noise that Undertaker stopped getting distracted by those thoughts.

“I'm just tired of this game of cat and mouse. Can't you just tell me what you are thinking? Drop me a little hint? Anything?” Goldust was all flustered by then, fists clenched.

And then, just like that, Undertaker closed the door right on his face, and for almost an entire minute, Goldust just stood there, eyes wide and with bated breath, lips parted as if he was about to say something, but nothing was coming out.

When Goldust snapped out of it, he chewed on his bottom lip to stop himself from straight up shouting, and had to hold back the urge to slam his fists at the door in front of him, demanding Undertaker to open it up again. How... how dare he do that to him? Just shoot him down like that as if he was nothing?

He stared at the door with squinted eyes. That most certainly had hurt his ego more than anything anyone has ever done to him, and... if he wasn't so angry he would congratulate Undertaker on such a feat.

Was that how Undertaker wanted to play? Very well, then they were going to play by his stupid rules.

Goldust let out a last huff of air before walking away, feet stomping on the floor with each step. For anyone watching from outside, he looked just like a spoiled child who was denied candy.

While Goldust was throwing his small tantrum outside, Undertaker was resting against the door, staring at the small lamp on the room's ceiling.

Flirting... Was that what Goldust expected from him, after all those words and actions? A display of affection? That... surely wasn’t what Undertaker thought. Not even close. He just supposed Goldust messed with him in an attempt to throw him off, make his life easier once they finally squared off in the ring. Get him distracted and unfocused.

Granted, his plan worked well. Maybe too well. But... to develop actual feelings? Why would Undertaker ever think of that as a possibility? And most importantly, why Goldust thought that would be the outcome of his actions?

Undertaker's head was spinning, trying to piece together all that new information, and now he was alone he allowed his eyes to widen a bit, and his nostrils to flare some as he found himself breathing a little more heavily. He felt weird, like he was about to get sick or something. He knew he couldn't get sick though... Or could he? He wasn't sure of anything at the moment.

He dreaded to think that foreign feeling bubbling at the bottom of his gut was anything even close to what Goldust was insinuating. He didn't want nor needed the burden of emotions into his life.

Then his brain immediately swung back to how he was just staring at and studying Goldust just a few minutes prior while he was speaking.

That was when he realized he was doomed. Didn't admit it, but acknowledged it.

 


	4. Bath Salts, Muted TVs, Little Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ops, chapter 4 took a little longer to come out than I thought, sorry about that!
> 
> With that said, are you ready for more exposition about these character's inner thoughts/feelings/personalities and also watch them act like ten year olds? Because that's what happens on this chapter that sets up wonderful things for chapter 5!

“I can't believe you did that.” Marlena said, puffing on her cigar and with an exasperated expression upon her face while seated on her chair, looking at Goldust, who was pretty much curled up on the couch, arms crossed in front of his chest and face all scrunched up in a grumpy expression.

“What were you expecting to happen? That he would dip you in his arms and go for a kiss?” Marlena scoffed, running her fingers through her hair. Honestly, she had no idea what Goldust was even trying to accomplish with what he did just a couple hours earlier.

“I'm aware I did not think this through, thank you very much.” Goldust said bitterly, reaching for the long cigarette holder resting on top of the small table near the couch, lighting up the cigarette on the tip and taking a long, deep drag.

“Alright, but you still didn’t tell me what your plan was.” Marlena said as she watched Goldust throw a fit.

“I don’t know. I was just tired of waiting around. I mean, I didn’t expect anything, but to have a door closed right on my face without a word! I never felt so insulted in my entire life… Who does that?” Goldust tapped his foot on the floor impatiently, taking a couple quick drags from his cigarette. “What’s his problem? What is he? Some kind of animal?”

“Well, it is your fault for falling in love with someone so dry and dull.” Marlena commented, and saw Goldust choke on smoke.

“I am not in love! How many times do I have to say that?” Goldust got up, and began pacing around the hotel room. He also didn't appreciate Marlena calling Undertaker dull, since he was everything but that, but let it slide. “I was just looking to have some fun. But how can I have fun when I can’t even start a conversation?” He stammered off some more, taking more drags from his cigarette… but no smoke was coming. “Oh, what’s wrong with this thing now?”

“Baby, you already burned through your cigarette in less than a minute. I think you need to go take a bath and calm down.” Marlena suggested, leaning back on her chair.

Goldust sighed heavily, putting down the cigarette holder back on the table. “You are right. You are right. I must calm myself.” He took a long, deep breath, a hand on top of his chest. “Would you like to accompany me, my dear?”

“Would love to, but I think you need some time off on your own to think about what you did.” Marlena said, and smiled in amusement when Goldust rolled his eyes at her.

“Time off? Thinking about what I did? What am I? Ten?” He asked, hands on his waist.

“Based on your little outburst just now, yes.” Marlena teased, and got a grunt in reply.

With that, Goldust went to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a small click.

He took another deep breath, and walked up to the somewhat small bathtub inside the room, plugging the drain and opening the faucets to get the water running.

For a long moment, he just sat on the edge of the tub, looking down at the water filling it. He was absolutely angry, in ways he had never been before. He had his advances shot down before but… there was something inherently different about being rejected this time around. Was it because he considered Undertaker such a high prize that having no perspective of attaining it made his blood boil? Was he really so not used to not getting what he wanted he considered Undertaker’s behavior to be atrocious, at best?

He sighed lightly, finally getting up to take off his robe, hanging it on a nearby hook. He kicked off his boots and took off his gloves, before sliding out of his jumpsuit and almost carelessly tossing it on the floor. He moved his hand to take off his wig, but stopped midway, and decided not to.

As soon as the tub was full, he dropped some salts in it before entering, letting the warm water envelop him.

For the longest time, Goldust just sat there, looking down at his own lap submerged in water, breathing in the soft perfume of the salts, trying his best to relax.

He hated losing his temper like that. But honestly, Undertaker was testing him with all that stalling. There was shyness and then there was whatever the other man was doing. Or maybe he was reading things all wrong? Maybe Undertaker was just harboring resentment towards him and those glances were nothing more but the deadman trying to intimidate him. It could very well be it.

And if that was the case then Goldust's plan backfired beautifully and, in retrospect, maybe coming on to him like that since day one wasn't such a great idea after all. He should have known trying to be upfront with a guy like that would end in disaster.

He sighed and shook his head, getting a handful of water and throwing it on his face.

_C'mon, Goldie, get a goddamn grip!_ He thought to himself, washing off some of the make up on his face, tinting the water in black and gold.  _This is not a disaster._

And even if it was, he was going to try and find a way to salvage it. He wasn't sure how he was going to do it, now he blew everything in the worst way possible by confronting Undertaker and getting absolutely no feedback, but by God, he was going to do it. After all, Undertaker didn't straight up say “no” to him... right? So maybe he still had a chance?

It was being real hard to keep a positive attitude about the entire situation, but he wasn't going to allow himself to quit. It was bad enough he got his confidence taken down a few pegs, he wasn't going to let his determination go down the same path.

Undertaker wanted subtle? Goldust could do subtle.

After all, he was a very good actor, wasn't he?

In the meantime, Undertaker was dealing with his own share of conflict. Thankfully, he was able to keep a very neutral facade in front of Bearer, even after all the stuff Goldust said to him, which was good, because the last thing he needed to top it all off was a long lecture into the night about how “vile” the other man was. Undertaker gotten it the first thirty times Paul told him that.

And now, as Bearer slept on his bed at their shared hotel room, he sat at the small desk in it, looking at an almost muted television set which was tuned into some old movie Undertaker was barely paying attention to. He thought it was a little stupid how he was more or less watching a movie while trying to avoid thinking about a man who did them for a living.

Maybe he was setting himself up for trouble after all.

His fingers tapped on the desk softly, and the only thing cutting through the silence was an occasional snore from Paul. Undertaker didn't mind the noise though. It wasn't like he actually **needed** sleep ever since he became what he was now. Sometimes he did need to rest though, but he found much better repose in caskets than on beds.

But bed or not, he wasn't going to be able to rest either way. Not with his brain firing up thought after thought like it was. He leaned back on his seat, eyes still on the television screen.

Making eyes at him... Was Undertaker really doing that? Was he really looking at Goldust a certain way that made it look like he was trying to... flirt with him, of all things?

Undertaker found that unlikely. Unfortunately, it didn't change the fact he was now thinking about it. Did he... was he developing feelings without realizing? It wasn't like he would be able to tell, considering how he spent almost his entire life going out of his way to avoid contact with others, and the very few people he associated with, which weren't dead, were more familial figures than anything else.

Up to that point, the only two people he created actual bonds with were Brother Love and Bearer. But Love had gone down an endless spiral of religious fanaticism Undertaker wanted to have nothing to do with, so they grew apart until their paths completely diverged and he didn't hear from the man again.

As for Paul, he was the only thing still connecting Undertaker to his past, so it was a dead giveaway he would form a bond with the shorter man, like it or not.

And by isolating himself in such way, he admitted he wasn't exactly the best at reading his own emotions, let alone the emotions of others. Dead people don't show emotions. They are just empty shells and, admittedly, a lot easier to deal with.

But, in the wild possibility he was developing feelings, what was he supposed to do about those anyway? How would he ever be able to “drop a hint”, as Goldust so eloquently put a few hours prior? He honestly had no idea, and to make matters worse, he had no one to consult about the matter. Not that he would even if he had. Relying on others was never his thing.

How long could he go on with it though? Shoving things to the back of his mind and hoping they would disappear on their own? Because that worked _so well_ up until that point, right? It wasn't like he was circling around the same thoughts over and over for the past month or so.

Undertaker groaned, turning off the television set and sitting there in almost pitch blackness, wasn't for the small lampshade on the bedside table near the corner of the room.

The following morning, Bearer found Undertaker still sitting on that chair, looking out the window. He considered asking if the other stayed up all night, but the answer was rather obvious. Instead, he chose to ask if Undertaker was feeling alright, and got just a nod in response. Just how many times had he asked Undertaker if he was OK the last few weeks? A whole lot more than usual, that much he could tell, which in itself was rather odd. After all, Undertaker had very predictable and patterned habits outside the ring – and sometimes inside the ring too. It wasn't like him to behave in ways that differed from his usual routine.

Still, even though Paul was sure something was amiss, he decided not to pry for answers to his questions. He was sure he wouldn't like them. Specially with that golden freak preying upon Undertaker.

As for Goldust, his night wasn't exactly peaceful either. He hardly got any sleep, and shifted in bed a lot more than he usually did. And because of that Marlena didn't get any sleep either, which made her consider getting them separate beds the following weeks.

The bath only partially helped to rest his head, because even though he somewhat figured out the source of the problem with his approach, and even though he was an excellent actor, just what kind of “part” was he supposed to play anyway? He never liked resorting to improvising.

An idea did occur him during his stirring, but it was so absurd he couldn't believe he actually came up with it. It was a lot more subtle than talking face to face, but still rather crazy.

Although, Goldust couldn't remember when was the last time he wasn't at least a little crazy.

During that night's event, when Undertaker found himself on his own inside his locker room, because Bearer left screaming about something related to Mankind he didn't bother paying attention to, he heard a sound similar to that of a piece of paper being scraped against the floor. He moved his head to look at the door, his gaze dropping down to find a note near it.

He slowly got up, walking up to the paper and crouching down to grab it. When he unfolded it, he found some words scribbled on it in a rather fancy handwriting.

_Would talking through the phone get your tongue a little more loose? Give me the number to your room through the door so we can talk~_

Undertaker looked at the paper, then at the door, than back to the paper, blinking a few times. It didn't take a genius to know who slipped that thing under his door. He raised a hand to turn the knob and confront Goldust, but stopped midway. He looked at the note once more, contemplating the idea for a moment.

Goldust was very persistent, Undertaker would give him that. After all, trying to approach him a second time after being shot down just the day before was a little admirable.

In one hand, he didn't **want** to talk to Goldust. At all. But on the other hand, what if actually having a conversation could help clear his mind from those persistent thoughts and ideas that kept coming around?

It wasn't something he wanted, but maybe it was something he needed.

He walked to the other side of the room, grabbing a pen from the table and writing the number on the back of the paper that was on his hand, along with the hours he assumed Bearer wouldn't be in the room. He didn't want to explain why they were getting calls. Or who was calling.

Undertaker took a look at the note one more time, sighing heavily to himself. What in God's name was he doing? Shouldn't he just write a big “no” on that paper and never speak of that ever again?

Still, he went on with it. And when he finally slipped the paper under the door it was when he realized just how silly and childish the entire thing was.

And it wasn't like Goldust was finding the situation any more dignified. What was that he told Marlena? That he wasn't a high school kid with a crush? Well, he sure was acting just like one, slipping notes under doors and getting strangely excited about getting someone's number. With so many roles to pick, he had to choose that one.

Still, there was no disguising the clear spring on his step and the smile on his lips as he walked back to his own locker room, stuffing the note into one of the pockets of his robe.

 


	5. Speak Before You Think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took forever and it's literally only a phone call? A phone call where Undertaker repeatedly shows how much of a dummy he is and Goldust uses everything he can to tease him (also he's gushing over Marlena on this chapter because yes).

Undertaker sat alone in his room, sometimes looking out the window, sometimes staring at the phone. The situation as a whole was very silly, with him sitting next to the telephone waiting for a call, feet shuffling against the carpeted floor. A part of him really wished Goldust didn’t call at all, even though he knew that was unlikely to happen.

Although, at least he was having enough time to prepare himself for it. That was literally the first time he ever found himself in that position, and he would appreciate it if the pit of his stomach stopped acting like it was trying to eat itself.

Suddenly, a ring echoed inside the room and Undertaker almost jolted from his seat on the edge of the bed. He stared at the phone for a few seconds, watching it ring away, hesitating as he lifted his hand to grab the receiver.

He sighed, and then answered the phone, not really saying anything when he put the receiver next to his ear.

“Is that you, reaper?” Goldust’s voice came from the other side of the line, and Undertaker made a grunting noise, getting a laugh in return. “Oh, that sure is you. You know, you need to work on your calligraphy a little. It took me so long to get your number right.”

Undertaker rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment, before speaking up.

“What do you want?” He asked, with no intention to stretch the conversation.

“As much as I would loooove telling you everything I want, that would make things no fun, right? A good player never puts all his cards on the table like that.” Goldust let out a chuckle. “I’ll tell you this though: I want to know you.”

“… Know me?” Undertaker’s even tone disguised his confusion quite well.

“Why, yes. Is that a crime to be interested in someone?” Goldust asked, lying lazily on his bed.

“Why me?” Undertaker wouldn’t say it, but his curiosity was a little picked.

Goldust went silent for a moment. Well now, why Undertaker? Now that was a question he wasn’t exactly ready to answer. Sure he could go on and tell the other he was fascinated by his uniqueness, or that his imposing figure was quite attractive, or even that he was intrigued about all the mystery surrounding the deadman. But… did Undertaker want to hear any of that? What if all this information just ended up scaring him off?

“I’m curious. After all, you are rather… exceptional.” Goldust chose to admit the tamest side of his attraction. He would have time to expose the other facets later on. “You are exceptional just like me. Don’t you think people like us should get together and… know each other better?”

The way those last words were spoken caused Undertaker’s back to stiffen up. He deeply hated how Goldust’s voice affected him so easily when used at the right tone. Hated it, and yet felt a strange tingle of excitement in the back of his mind. Almost like a part of him expected and wanted to hear the other talk like that.

“Is that all we are going to talk about? Better yet, am I the only one who’s going to do all the talking?” Goldust asked when he noticed Undertaker had grown silent. Or more silent than normal.

“This is not… usual to me.” Undertaker replied, running his fingers through his long, dark hair.

“Hm? Oooh… That’s your first time doing this? Hah! That’s lovely!” Goldust laughed softly, twirling his finger on the phone’s cord. How could anyone be so intimidating and yet so charming? Not to mention that the possibility of being the first one to ever captivate such a man was far more thrilling than it had any right to be.

Undertaker, on the other hand, was not amused.

“I can not see how this is funny.” Undertaker was honestly on the verge of just hanging up on Goldust's face.

Goldust had to hold back another small laugh. The fact that Undertaker couldn't see how what he just confessed was endearing was delightful on it's own. He almost felt sorry for the deadman. Almost.

“Nevermind…” Goldust said, sitting up on the bed. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to force you to talk. I didn’t set up this whole thing just to make you uncomfortable, you know?”

Undertaker was taken slightly by surprise by that. Based on Goldust’s general behavior with… everyone, really, he seemed to greatly enjoy making others feel as embarrassed as possible, especially with his very bold advances. It was a bit of a relief to know maybe he misjudged Goldust’s character. But then again it was too early to tell, and maybe he had ulterior motives for being so accommodating, for the lack of a better word.

“Then why you set this up? … Just to tell me you want to know me?” Undertaker asked, feet shuffling on the floor again.

“I had to start somewhere, right?” Goldust shifted from twirling the cord to doing the same to a small strand of his wig. “Especially after approaching you up front didn’t really yield the result I was expecting.” And, deep inside, Goldust was still feeling insulted about that.

“… Where do we go from here? From this conversation?” Undertaker asked, before he could choose his words better.

“From here? I don’t know. Where do you want this to go?” Goldust said. Even though Undertaker just admitted that was not a normal situation for him, he hoped that would motivate the other to speak up more. After all, not only it was quite nice to hear that deep voice from the other side of the line, he wanted to give Undertaker all the time and space he needed, and the possibility to take things at his own pace.

Undertaker felt his fingers tighten around the phone’s receiver. He… had absolutely no idea how to answer to that question. That was why he asked for Goldust’s opinion in the first place.

“I… am unsure.” It was almost painful to admit he had no idea what to do. It made him seem weak and confused, two things he absolutely loathed showing others.

“Well, we’ll figure it out together then, how does that sound?” Goldust suggested, speaking in a very soft tone.

“I suppose.” Undertaker didn’t know what to make out of the situation, so he believed it was better to just go with the flow for now. And… he didn’t exactly find the idea of having Goldust’s help with it all that repulsive. In fact, it was a little appealing. And if for some reason, in the long run, he realized he made a mistake, he could simply deliver a few blows to Goldust and call it quits.

Then, something came to Undertaker’s mind.

“Why are you chasing after me? I assumed you and your director…” Undertaker trailed off, not sure how to bring up the subject.

“Hm? Marlena?” Goldust said then chuckled. “Oh… Yes, I adore her. She’s a godsend, and she’s the most important thing to me. I simply cannot imagine my life without her at this point. Although…” He paused for a moment, lips curving into a smirk. “Don’t you think it’s completely possible for someone to be interested in two people at the same time?”

Undertaker couldn’t say he was surprised by Goldust’s words. In fact, if he said the opposite then that would be a shock.

“Me and Marlena, our relationship is a lot more complex than people imagine. I know she doesn’t depend on me, but I depend on her.” Goldust said, not worried about the fact he was deliberating about his personal life. “I do everything I can for her, and she does the same for me. The way we love each other is… I guess it’s complicated.” His words were on the verge of loving. “She’s exquisite. Both her looks and her personality. But what I feel for her has nothing to do with how I feel for others. She’s in a league all of her own.”

There was a pause, then an amused laugh echoed on the other side of the line, and Undertaker was confused for a moment.

“Now… why are you suddenly worried about the state of my relationship with my dear Marlena? Are you already expecting us to get involved and you don’t want to get in trouble?” Goldust’s voice was laced with teasing.

Undertaker immediately tensed up, eyes widening a bit and his hold tightening even more around the phone, to the point he believed he was about to break it in half.

“It has nothing to do with that.” Undertaker’s voice was stilted, but he was able to get a reply out rather quickly.

“Alright, alright…” Goldust wasn’t really buying that, but decided to drop the subject since Undertaker’s voice suddenly shifted from neutral to almost nervous. “Let’s talk about something else. If you want to keep talking that is.”

A side of Undertaker didn’t really want to go on, because he was genuinely worried about asking something compromising again. But another side of him didn’t quite want to hang up the phone, mostly because it was a lot easier to maintain a conversation without Goldust staring at his face.

“Can we talk more another time?” Way to go, asking something compromising right after being worried about doing just that.

It was Goldust’s turn to be surprised. Undertaker… wanted to talk to him some more at a later time? He certainly wasn’t expecting it.

“You don’t have to ask me twice. I can call you all you want, and you can call me anytime.” Goldust said, heart fluttering a bit. “Can you write down my room’s number? Or do you want me to give it to you through a door like you did with yours?” He smiled as he heard Undertaker scoff at him on the other side.

“Just give me the number.” Undertaker spat out those words, making sure to get them out before he regretted the decision. He scribbled down the number Goldust gave him and then carefully hid the paper away. He wasn’t sure for how long he would be able to hide his interactions with Goldust from Bearer, but he had to try. The less he had to explain, the better. Mainly because he wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining, since he had no idea himself why he was doing all that, or why he was not pushing Goldust away like he first thought he would.

It was all too damn confusing.

“I’ll be expecting your call, deadman. If I don’t call you first that is.” Goldust said, expecting to get a grunt or some other noise of annoyance in response, but nothing came over the line. “I’ll hear from you soon, I hope?”

“… Yes.” Undertaker said plainly, before hanging up without another word.

He sat there on the edge of the bed for a moment, before lying on his back, staring at the ceiling of his room. What was he doing? Saying things that ultimately backfired on him and put him in compromising situations. Asking for Goldust’s number like that… Was he really going to call? What if he did? What would that mean? What would he even say? He buried his fingers on his hair in frustration. If he could at least make some sense out of his feelings it would be a great relief, or if he could just go back to only feeling resentment and anger. That would be great too.

In the meantime, Goldust was on cloud nine. Even if Undertaker never called him, just him showing interest in doing so was a big deal. He never even imagined that would happen. He figured that first call would result on him talking away on the phone and getting some grunts in reply and that’s it. But the outcome was so much better than anything Goldust could ever imagine. It gave him some sort of silver lining about the whole thing, and he was so ready to chase after it. He just needed to be careful not to screw up the little progress he made.


	6. One's Own Free Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, sorry for taking so long to write this one up. I was not sure what to include, and then suddenly I decided to include a bunch of stuff.
> 
> This chapter features more phone calls. And Paul Bearer getting dangerously close to a meltdown. And Marlena not giving two fucks about anything.

The literal day after their phone call was strange, for the both of them. All in all, Goldust expected to be able to deal with everything a whole lot better, but instead he found himself in this weird middle ground where he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do. In a way, he didn't exactly expect to get this far, based on Undertaker's personality, but with how their call went, with the other asking for his number and all, he was a little lost. He already knew coming on to Undertaker was a poor move, so he had to calculate his next action a lot more carefully than that. Just what should he do anyway? Should he just wait and see if the other was going to call? Was he supposed to make a second call? Should they talk in person? He just didn't know.

As for Undertaker, he was just as lost, if not more. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact he asked for someone's phone number for personal reasons, so thinking about a next step was already too much. Maybe he was thinking about it a little too hard, but it wasn't like he could help it. And it was specially distressing when he started to zone out just to get rudely brought back to reality by Bearer, who was clearly quickly realizing Undertaker wasn't exactly at the top of his game. He was still not asking any questions, but he sure suspected something, and Undertaker still had no idea what to say when the inevitable barrage of inquiries came his way. He sure was painting himself into a corner.

Still, neither Goldust nor Undertaker were exactly thinking about calling the entire thing off. And the following week slowly but surely cemented that.

There were times when Undertaker caught himself looking at Goldust from the corner of his eyes through the crowd in the locker room area, and when Goldust looked his way and smiled, he was quick to look the other way, but wasn't particularly bothered about being noticed.

Some other time another note was slipped under the door of Undertaker's room just a few minutes before a match, and a “good luck” was scribbled on it in fancy letters. He carefully folded the paper and stuffed it in the pocket of his coat. He won the match almost effortlessly, and even though he didn't attribute his victory to the note, he still felt something akin to gratitude on the back of his head.

That night he awkwardly called Goldust's number, hastily let out a “thank you” and quickly hung up, not even giving the other time to say something in reply.

The second time he called, just two days later, it was slightly less weird. It was late and Undertaker knew Paul well enough to know he was far too deep into his slumber to notice any noise. Not that he made much noise anyway, with how little he spoke. The call was mostly just Goldust rambling on about some upcoming match he had absolutely no interest in taking part of, and also something about this one movie script which was sent to him.

Admittedly, at some point Undertaker got terribly distracted, paying far more attention to Goldust's voice than to what he was actually saying. He had such a wide range of emotions and he shifted through them so fast while talking. He wondered if that was because Goldust was an actor, or if that was just him being himself.

He snapped out of it when Bearer let out a particularly loud snore, and then there was a laugh on the other side of the line.

“What was that? Are you falling asleep while I'm here talking?”

Undertaker looked to the other bed and watched Paul stir a little, then go quiet again.

“It... was Bearer. He is rather noisy when he is asleep.”

“Really? How do you handle sleeping with him around?” Goldust asked, very intrigued.

“I do not really require sleeping.” Undertaker shifted on his bed, laying on his side.

“You... don't?” Goldust sounded quite skeptical about that.

“I sometimes need to rest, but sleeping is not necessary. Not anymore that is.” Undertaker said, and in a way he was glad that wasn't something he needed to do anymore. He often had less than nice dreams when he slept, so avoiding them was a plus.

Goldust would probably make a suggestive comment about how good it was that Undertaker needed no sleep – a comment that would most likely fly over the deadman's head – if he wasn't so surprised to do that. He always assumed the whole “undead” thing was a very well thought and acted performance, which alone fascinated him, with how much he appreciated good acting. But for Undertaker to be truly not really alive but not really dead either... Now that made things even more interesting, and explained Undertaker's demeanor a good deal.

“You are in luck then, because I doubt you could sleep with Mr. Thundersnore sleeping right by your side.” Goldust said, smiling to himself and figuring that nickname sounded rather childish, but that was the best he could come up with on the spot, and so late at night.

“I suppose...” Undertaker felt his lips curve into a very slight smile. That almost immediately shocked him and the smile faltered instantly. Where did that come from?

“Well, you don't need to sleep but I do. You don't get this pretty by staying up all night, you know?” Goldust said, rubbing his eyes. “I'll call you some other time. Have a good night, reaper!”

“Good night.” Undertaker replied, phone still on his ear way after he heard the click signaling the end of the call.

He eventually moved to hang up the phone, then shifted on the bed to look out the window. He could already tell he was going to do a lot more thinking than usual that night.

By the end of the week, both Goldust and Undertaker ended up falling into a strange routine of calling each other, which was something neither of them expected to happen. It was a little frustrating for Goldust though, because he would rather talk face to face with the other man, but if that type of long distance communication meant Undertaker would be a little more open and receptive, then he would do his best to take it one step at a time.

And speaking of calling, he figured it would be a good idea to call the deadman a few hours before RAW. He knew the other had a match that night, so maybe some dose of encouragement was in order. Sure Goldust was aware Undertaker didn't really need any reassuring, and would probably even scoff at it, but it couldn't hurt. Not to mention it gave Goldust an excuse to hear him talk.

He dialed up the number to Undertaker's room, and as soon as the call was picked up, he smiled and spoke up.

“Hello, good looking. How are you today? Ready for your match tonight?” Goldust sat there waiting for Undertaker to inevitably stammer about being called “good looking”.

“How did you get this number?!” Bearer's shrieking voice came from the other side, and Goldust could swear his entire body frozen for a good ten seconds, his smile vanishing completely and his eyes going wide.

“Anh... hm... wrong number!” Goldust pretty much slammed the receiver to hang up the phone, and just sat there feeling quite numb.

Meanwhile, back in Undertaker's room, Paul seemed to be on the verge of exploding, his face red and contorting in ways Undertaker had never seen before.

“I knew something wasn't right with you! I knew something was wrong but I never thought it was something this bad! Him, calling you? How did he even got the number in the first place?” Bearer asked, pacing back and forth inside the room, gesticulating like mad. He thought hotels were a little more discerning when it came to giving away information about their guests, but he was clearly wrong.

“... I gave it to him.” Undertaker said. And the look he got from Paul made him wish he didn't say a word.

“What?!” Bearer pretty much screamed the word out, walking up to Undertaker in quick, short steps. “What were you thinking? Just how many times did he call you?”

“A few.” Undertaker was glad he had mastered the ability of keeping a neutral exterior, because he actually had a big turmoil going on inside his head at the moment, and if Paul were to perceive it, it would cause more harm than good.

“Hah! A few! **A few**!” Paul threw his hands up in the air, letting out a loud, mocking laugh. “And just what do you two have so much to talk about? N-No! I don't want to know!” He stammered off some more, back to walking around the room. “I'll have a very serious talk with that manager of his and I'll demand he stays away from you!”

Bearer couldn't believe that was happening. If Goldust thought he was going to just bend Undertaker's mind to whatever he wanted he got another thing coming. Because there was no way he would let such a vile individual influence his protege like that.

And just as he promised, at that very night, he walked up to Goldust's locker room, and banged on the door way more times than needed.

Marlena answered soon enough, cigar in hand and an unamused expression upon her face.

“Well, look who's here.” She said, taking a long drag from her cigar and puffing the smoke away, almost straight into Paul's face. She knew he would inevitably come talk to them, after Goldust told her he answered the phone instead of Undertaker.

“You listen here you disrespectful vixen, I don't care about what you or your 'client' think, or whatever he's planning, but you better talk to him and tell him to stay away from my Undertaker.” Paul was glaring at Marlena, who was just looking kind of indifferently at him, which just served to make his blood boil even more.

“Vixen? Oh please, don't try to flatter me.” Marlena said, leaning on the door frame. “And what you mean 'tell him to stay away'?”

“You know exactly what I mean! Just tell Goldust to stop doing... whatever he's trying to do.” Because honestly Bearer wasn't quite sure what he was trying to accomplish, and he most definitely didn't want to think too hard about it.

“From what I know, my dear Goldie never forced your client into doing anything, so I don't know why you are getting so strung out about that.” Marlena watched as Paul clenched his fists tight and then let them relax ever so slightly.

“I don't care if he's being forced or not! You two are a pair of manipulative rats and somehow he got into my Undertaker's head and I want him out!” Paul was on the verge of yelling, but for the sake of not attracting too much attention from other people passing by he was doing his best to keep his voice low.

“And it never occurred to you, not even for a moment, that maybe your deadman is letting himself get involved by his own free will?” Marlena asked. Goldust did have a very... pushy personality, but she knew him well enough to know he wouldn't actually force anyone into anything. Most of what he did was to test just how far he could go with people until he got a more extreme reaction from them. That was the main reason why he was always jumping from wrestler to wrestler and never really feuded with anyone for a very long time.

Bearer made a loud, scoffing noise. “Letting himself get involved... you don't know anything about Undertaker.”

“And you don't know anything about Goldust.” Marlena spoke up, her disinterest turning into animosity. “Look, if you came all the way here to tell me I should order Goldie around about what he should or shouldn't do, you are wasting your time.” She took a quick drag from her cigar. “Just because you are used to Undertaker following your every order doesn't mean it works the same way between me and Goldust.”

“I don't want him calling us again.” Paul said, pausing between every word.

“Why? Afraid that your client might start thinking for himself?” Marlena's lips curved into a smirk, which, along with her words, just served to infuriate Bearer even more. “Besides, my Goldie told me your little protege was the one who called a few times.” She leaned closer to the man in front of her, still smirking. “Late at night.”

It took all of Bearer's willpower not to explode into yells and swear words. A part of him deeply believed she was straight up lying just to push his buttons, but another part of him believed her, which was even worse because it made him realize all that was happening right under his nose and he didn't suspect a thing until it was rubbed right in his face. It made him feel like a complete idiot.

Paul opened his mouth to speak up, but then closed it, glaring at Marlena before turning around and walking away, stomping his feet on the floor. He was going to have a long and serious talk with Undertalker. Immediately.

Marlena let out a sigh of relief when she saw Paul disappear behind a corner. Honestly if she never talked to that guy again it would be too soon. Although she had a nagging suspicion that wouldn't be the last time he would confront her about the things Goldust did.

She got back inside the locker room and closed the door, but almost as soon as she sat down on the couch, it swung open again, Goldust getting inside.

“Ah, darling, you... look a little exasperated. What happened?” He asked, walking up to her.

“Paul Bearer decided to drop by for a visit.” She said, watching Goldust roll his eyes.

“Oh, good grief, what did he say to you?” He could only hope that unpleasant little man didn't bother her too much.

“Let's just say that, from now on, you and your little 'friend' will have to start having conversations in person instead of through phone calls.” After all, Bearer only told her to tell Goldust to stop calling. He didn't say anything about other interactions, right?

 


	7. Food for Thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry for the month long hiatus on this fic. To compensate, here, have 4,000 words.
> 
> In this thrilling episode, well, it's a very slow chapter considering there are so many words. But know this: both Undertaker and Goldust are completely doomed to stay together and with every chapter Undertaker embarrasses himself even more.

True to his word, Paul Bearer threw a barrage of words at Undertaker, barely believing he was actually getting calls from Goldust. For the sake of his sanity, he chose to completely ignore Marlena’s words about his protege calling Goldust back, in the dead of the night no less.

Undertaker for the most part just listened. Trying to rationalize with Paul at that moment would be pointless. He was too far-gone into anger and irritation to listen to anything he had to say. He wanted to tell him those calls had little to nothing to them. That Goldust never said anything that could, on Paul’s own words, “poison” him. He wasn’t trying to influence him to do anything, or to act any way. They were just… conversations. Mostly Goldust talking about things from his day Undertaker found frivolous at best.

But it wasn’t like Paul would listen. Not to mention he would probably rule whatever Undertaker said at that point as some clever manipulation from Goldust.

Honestly, in Undertaker’s opinion, Bearer was giving Goldust far too much credit. He wasn’t exactly as cunning as he showed himself to be, if their recent interactions were anything to go by.

The next days were rather weird. For whatever reason, Undertaker found himself expecting calls he knew were never going to come, and even if they did Paul was going to intercept them for sure. And… longing for something like that was rather unfamiliar to him, and yet he didn’t feel like fighting against the feeling as usual. He just let it come and go, and it was strange, but also a little interesting.

Meanwhile, Goldust was frustrated. He wanted to call Undertaker, but also didn’t want to bring him even more problems. In all honesty, Bearer was making way too big of a scene about something very little. What did he think he was trying to do anyway? Turn Undertaker into his puppet? Damn, he just wanted to have some fun, there was no reason to label him – and poor Marlena – as some kind of criminal or something.

When Monday arrived, Goldust decided he wasn’t going to just hide away from Bearer. Who that guy thought he was anyway, to impose stuff on him? He marched up to the door of Undertaker’s locker room, knocking on it firmly.

When the door opened, he stood there, arms crossed in front of his body, as he was greeted by Paul’s less than friendly face.

“I think I told you to stay away from us.” Bearer said between his teeth. He hated being challenged like that.

“Yes, my lovely Marlena told me all about your ‘visit’ and I am aware of how displeased you are about me trying to approach your deadman, but if you think your ugly mug is going to stop me, you got another thing coming, little man!” Goldust said, gripping on the sleeves of his robe.

“Oh, I got a lot more than an ugly mug! Don’t test me.” Paul’s voice was a lot lower, compared to its usual high pitch, and Goldust grew weary for a moment, but kept pressing on.

“For the love of… Stop trying to do whatever you are doing and just let me talk to him.” Goldust’s tone was almost demanding.

“He does not want to talk to the likes of y-” Bearer stopped on his tracks when he felt the weight of Undertaker’s gloved hand on his shoulder. He looked back at the taller man, expecting him to just shoot Goldust down right then and there, so their lives could just go back to normal.

He was everything but happy when Undertaker did speak up though.

“What is that you want to say?” Undertaker asked plainly, and Paul had to hold back all the disapproving words which were coming to his mouth.

“Can we please talk somewhere else? Without… _him_ glaring at me?” Goldust looked at Paul with clear disdain, a look that was instantly met with a very unpleasant scowl.

“He isn’t going any-”

“Yes.” Undertaker said, cutting off Bearer, which made the shorter man almost gasp in clear shock. And when he was pushed to the side – a lot more gently than one would expect from someone like Undertaker – his eyes just widened even more. He was so taken aback all words of protest he could come up with got stuck in his throat, and the will power to actually move his hand and grab on to Undertaker's arm was nowhere to be found. Paul just watched as the other followed Goldust until they were away from his field of vision.

And it was just then he gave a few steps back into the locker room and closed the door, hand covering his mouth.

It was all lost. He was losing his precious Undertaker to that… that… Hollywood freak.

When both men were finally on a quieter and more deserted hallway, Undertaker leaned against the wall, looking down a little so the brim of his hat covered his eyes. Goldust stood in front of him, huffing and crossing his arms once more.

“Unbelievable... How do you even stand staying around that guy?” Goldust asked, looking at the general direction of Undertaker's locker room, which was far gone from their view.

“It is a rather long story.” Undertaker simply replied.

“Can’t wait to hear it. Sounds like a riveting tale.” Goldust felt a weird shiver down his spine. He couldn't even begin to imagine what reason Undertaker had to keep such a detestable man by his side, but if he had his motives...

“Why you wanted me to come with you?” Undertaker asked, hoping the conversation would be brief. Not that brevity was one of Goldust's strong suits, as he came to learn.

“Well, this situation we are in, this won't do.” Goldust said, uncrossing his arms.

Undertaker tilted his head up, enough so he could look at Goldust's face, a slight questioning look upon his face.

“What are we? Are we grown men or are we nervous kids at a playground who don't know how to approach each other?” Goldust gave a step forward, getting closer to the other man.

“I do believe we are in fact grown men.” Undertaker replied, not exactly sure where Goldust was trying to get with that.

“Then why are we resorting to awkward phone calls and glances from across the room?” There was another step forward. “Are you afraid of me, deadman?” And another.

There was a long pause, as Undertaker stopped his fists from clenching. Goldust was a little too close for comfort. So close he could feel warm breathing against his lips.

This was far too different from their first encounter face to face back in the ring, those two weeks before their match. There was no noise from the crowd, no people keeping their watchful eyes on them, no incentive to fight. It was only them standing there, in a quiet hallway, and everything felt far too personal. And Undertaker realized he was taking far too much time to answer a question that should have a very simple answer.

“No.” He finally managed to blurt out, figuring Goldust would back away once he answered him.

It was wishful thinking though. The warm breath against his lips was still there and those black-framed eyes were still staring into his.

“You sure? You hesitated.” Goldust's lips curved in a smile. He knew very well that even if Undertaker felt intimidated by him, he would never tell. And it wasn't like his body language or tone of voice would tell either. It was frustrating for Goldust, how hard it was to read the deadman, but maybe with some time he would be able to do so. Or maybe that was just like the undead worked. Maybe they just didn't express their feelings. How was he supposed to know? All he knew about the living-dead he learned from movies, and he was starting to think Hollywood didn’t make its research proper, considering how different Undertaker was from the undead he saw on the silver screen.

“I am certain.” Undertaker answered quickly, the words coming out a little easier this time around.

Finally Goldust backed away and Undertaker let out a sigh of relief inside his head.

“If you are not scared then I think we should try and spend some time together, don't you think?” Goldust asked, clasping his hands together.

“Time... together?” Undertaker echoed those words as if they were completely foreign to him.

“You know, talking in person and not through the phone, go for a walk perhaps, have lunch... Things people do when they are trying to know each other?” Goldust couldn't help but be slightly confused. Was Undertaker really that bad at social interactions he honestly had no idea what people did when they were trying to get a relationship started?

“I... I think we could try that.” Undertaker said, and watched as Goldust's eyes widened a little. Was he not expecting that answer?

“Excellent then!” Goldust's surprise was quickly replaced by delight. “And don't worry your pretty little head about what we are going to do or not. I'll take care of it.”

Undertaker had no objections to that. After all, he wouldn't even know where to start.

“How about we meet tomorrow for lunch? We could talk some, maybe you can even tell me the story behind you and your _mentor_.” Goldust paused, and before Undertaker could say anything he spoke up again. “Oh, I know the perfect place for us to eat something here in this town. It's not too fancy, but it's very nice, I heard.” He figured Undertaker would not feel comfortable some place full of snobbish, rich people. “It's settled then, tomorrow we go out to eat. I'm sure you can meet me around midday in front of the hotel, right?”

Undertaker just stood there, lips parted some as he tried to speak up, but before he could, once more, he had no chance, because Goldust started to walk away.

“And don't be late. It's rude to keep someone waiting when they invite you to eat out, alright?” Goldust said with a smile, walking away some more until he turned a nearby corner and disappeared from the deadman's gaze.

Undertaker just stood there, not sure of what just happened. Did Goldust just decide they were going out the next day, and to eat of all things?

He didn't even give Undertaker the chance to say he did not need to eat, and that taking him out for lunch would be a huge waste.

Still a little stunned by suddenly having a meeting the next day – one he had no chance to back away from – Undertaker walked back to his locker room, and when he entered he saw Paul sitting on the couch, looking disgruntled, but also surprised.

“… You are back already?” Bearer said, actually relieved whatever Goldust wanted to say was brief. “What did he want with you?”

“Nothing of importance.” Undertaker replied, and then suddenly asked himself why he felt the need to omit what him and Goldust talked about, without thinking twice.

“I imagined.” Paul let out a sigh before speaking up again. “I assume he did not say anything about leaving you be, did he?”

“No.” Undertaker simply said.

Bearer rolled his eyes, throwing his head back. Goldust was a really determined man Paul would give him that. Hopefully though, Undertaker would be able to handle it and eventually he would give up. After all, Undertaker was an adult and could take care of himself, right? That was the main reason why he didn’t exactly stay mad at Undertaker when he left to talk with Goldust by his own free will.

Maybe he was being a little too overprotective? Paranoid even? Yeah… he was probably blowing things way out of proportion.

The rest of the night and the next morning followed without anything out of the ordinary happening, and Bearer was more than happy about it. And because he had come to terms with accepting Undertaker could do what he felt like, he didn’t think much of it when the tall man left their room at the hotel. Probably just needed to go for a walk and clear his head a little. Paul could only imagine just how demanding that past month or so was for Undertaker, especially mentally. He deserved to have some time on his own.

The only problem was that he wouldn’t be on his own.

Undertaker was already nervous when he reached the hotel’s lobby, and that feeling just got aggravated when he stepped out of the building to find Goldust standing there on the sidewalk, wearing that… gaudy golden tuxedo he sometimes wore. Undertaker couldn’t help but wonder why Goldust made a point of putting such a thing on along with full make up and a wig just to go for lunch, but then again he was in no place to judge, when it came to eccentricities.

“Ah, just in time. For a moment I thought you would not come at all, you know?” Goldust said, face lighting up in a smile.

“It would not be polite.” Undertaker replied, which made the other smile even more.

“You remembered what I said. How sweet of you!” Goldust watched as Undertaker shifted his gaze from him to the curb.

Undertaker only nodded, stuffing his hands on the pockets of his coat.

“Well let’s get a move on then. I’m starving. I don’t usually walk to places, but it’s such a nice day out, don’t you think?” Goldust asked, starting to walk and being followed by the other man.

“Yes.” Undertaker agreed. Indeed, the day was rather pleasant, and in a way Undertaker was glad he had a reason to go out and not stay holed up inside his hotel room.

Undertaker stayed in silence most of the way, except for the occasional short answer whenever Goldust asked him anything, or the occasional hum just to show he was actually listening.

Despite the quietness, Goldust was glad Undertaker was walking with him. In fact, he was happy the other accepted his invitation at all. Sure he kind of didn't give Undertaker the chance to decline the offer the night before, but nothing would stop him from not showing up at all. And yet there he was, and Goldust couldn’t feel happier.

The walk didn't take long and soon enough they reached the restaurant, which looked rather small, at least from the outside, which for Undertaker was a bit of a relief. He was not exactly looking forward to finding himself in a big, extravagant place. It wasn't his style at all.

They went inside and were promptly seated by a young girl who acted very polite, but didn't exactly make an effort to disguise her shock when she laid eyes on them. Although both of them were aware they weren't exactly conventional, so that didn't come as a surprise.

Sitting across from each other, they were handed menus and the girl excused herself for a moment, rushing to the kitchen. Most likely to gossip about the two strange individuals who just walked in.

“This is a very nice place, don't you think?” Goldust asked, looking around as he took off his gloves. The lights weren't too bright and the temperature around them was cool. The tables all looked very sturdy and the chairs were rather comfortable. All in all, everything was pretty simple, but very cozy.

Undertaker simply nodded, grabbing the menu and shifting through the pages absentmindedly. He couldn't even recall when was the last time he ate out with someone, let alone someone he knew so little about. It had been only a few minutes and he was already regretting his decision.

Goldust decided it was for the best to look over the menu as well. He would have plenty of time to talk with Undertaker once they placed their orders. That is, if he was able to get something out of the deadman. He was certainly the quiet type. More so than Goldust imagined.

After a few minutes, Goldust peered over his menu with a smile.

“So? Did anything grab your attention?”

Undertaker hesitated for a moment, then sighed, putting his menu down.

“This... I do not need this.” He said, eyes gazing at his own hands resting on the table.

“Hm? Oh, please, don't act so humble. I'm quite sure you deserve being taken out to e-”

“No. I do not mean that. I... I do not need _this_. Eating that is.”

There was a moment of silence while Goldust sat there staring at Undertaker for the longest time, as if he was brain was slowly processing what was said to him. He blinked a few times, then leaned back on his chair, also putting his menu down.

“So... you don't sleep nor eat?” He said, more as an affirmation than a question.

“Not... really. I can eat but it is not necessary.” Undertaker realized he should have said something about that way before. It would prevent them from wasting a big deal of time.

“Well, if you still **can** eat, then what's the problem?”

It was Undertaker's turn to pause. Indeed. If he was capable of eating, and even still found enjoyment on some types of foods, then he should just... eat, right?

Something was bothering him though.

“You do not think this is abnormal? These things I am telling you?” Undertaker asked, finally looking at the other's face. By now he figured even Goldust, with his eccentric ways, would be highly disturbed by the knowledge that he was, in fact, not completely alive.

Goldust leaned on the table, opening another smile. “I've come from Hollywood. There's very little you can say that will unnerve me.”

“This is not a movie set.”

“And who said anything about movies?”

Undertaker considered asking Goldust more about that, but decided against it. He had a feeling he didn't want to know more. At least not at the moment.

“OK, let's just stop talking and decide what we want to eat, yes? I'm sure that young lady will be back soon to get our orders.” Goldust said, picking his menu back up, quickly going back wondering if he would rather have fish or chicken.

Undertaker nodded, scanning through the pages of his own menu. He haven't eaten in... well he couldn't remember when was the last time he ate, honestly. Maybe he should just order a steak? Those were usually nice.

Indeed, the waitress was soon back at their table, and was quick to ask what they wanted, and jolted down their orders before scampering off to the back again.

Without the menus there, Undertaker felt even more uncomfortable than before, because now he had nothing to pretend being distracted by to avoid having to strike up a conversation. Although, it wasn't like he needed to find something to talk about, because Goldust soon spoke up again.

“Now, I'm not sure how comfortable you are talking about it, but just why do you spend your time in the company of... in the company of Bearer?” Goldust had to pause before he said yet another derogatory thing about Undertaker's manager. He thought it was only fair to try and be at least respectful towards someone Undertaker seemed to have a strong bond with.

“As I mentioned, it is a long story.” And it had a few things to it Undertaker would rather not talk about with anyone.

“We are not going anywhere. Unless you really don't want to talk about it. I won't force it.” Goldust leaned back again, hands resting on his lap.

“He is just... He is my family.” Undertaker said, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Family? I'll say, I wouldn't be able to tell. Aside from being very ghastly and having an affinity for the macabre, you two have very little in common.” Goldust laughed lightly.

“We are not family by blood. It is more complicated than that.” Undertaker fumbled with his fingers a little.

“I understand it better than you imagine, trust me.” Goldust said, eyes drifting to Undertaker's hands, which were surprisingly without gloves on. It was strange to see those large hands bare like that, and Goldust wished they weren't so distracting. He truly wanted to pay attention to what Undertaker was saying to him.

 _You don't..._ Undertaker thought to himself, but said nothing. He figured Goldust was trying to empathize with him, and in a way he was kinda glad the other was making an effort.

After that, the subject was quickly dropped, not only because Undertaker didn't feel like talking more about it, but also because Goldust quickly realized trying to steer into that direction was bound to make the other uncomfortable. Maybe somewhere down the road he could bring the topic back up, but now he just wanted to, hopefully, spend a reasonably pleasant afternoon with Undertaker.

He decided to bring up more ordinary subjects, like upcoming matches, things about their daily lives, their jobs outside the ring...

All of Undertaker's comments and answers were quite short and to the point, but the fact remained he was in fact engaging on the conversation, which in itself was rather impressive when taking into consideration how quiet he was all the time. Being in a public area like a restaurant helped a little.

When all was said and done, Goldust realized he now knew Undertaker far better than when they first stepped inside that restaurant. Sure, he didn't know any details about his life, but it was a little fascinating to hear him talk about simple things he did on a daily basis, or small things about his job as a mortician. The later was probably not the best conversation to have over lunch, but honestly Goldust had to tackle worse topics over meals before. He was just glad Undertaker didn't start talking about rotting carcasses or something similarly gross.

Still, Undertaker sounded strangely passionate about his job, and if there was something Goldust valued and respected was people doing what they loved. After all, he did that himself. He simply couldn't see his life without movies, and couldn't see himself doing anything else but being an actor. And clearly Undertaker felt the same way about building caskets.

Indeed, he was a fascinating individual.

And just how many times that thought crossed Goldust's mind the past two months? Probably more than necessary, but he didn't mind.

Undertaker barely noticed time pass. When he did, his plate was already empty, and the waitress was already taking it away. How did that happen? Was he so not used to social situations he completely zoned out? How long had he been there, sitting at that table and talking with Goldust?

“How long have we been here?” He asked abruptly, and Goldust looked at him in confusion.

“I'm not sure. Forty minutes to an hour, maybe?” Goldust was definitely not paying attention.

Undertaker made a disgruntled noise, which caused Goldust to frown. That... wasn't the reaction he was expecting after how pleasant the whole lunch was. For a moment he almost thought Undertaker was enjoying his company, but that groan just made it seem like the entire thing was a huge nuisance for the other man.

“If you want to leave I won't hold you here.” Goldust said, shifting his gaze to the other tables next to them.

“I have lost track of time, and my absence may cause Bearer to grow suspicious and default to blaming you.” Undertaker paused, then swallowed dryly before speaking again. “I do not wish for him to torment you.”

Goldust's eyes widened a little and his gaze snapped back to Undertaker's face.

“Wha-”

Then Undertaker suddenly pushed himself away from the table, his chair loudly scraping against the floor.

“I need to go. I certainly appreciated… Thank you.” Undertaker sputtered out before getting up and quickly turning to leave, not even giving Goldust the chance to say anything in return.

Goldust just sat there, staring at Undertaker walking out the door, and he took far too long to register what happened. He was still trying to understand the whole thing with Undertaker not wanting him to be disturbed by Bearer, and then that happened. Not to mention he saying he appreciated being there. Yeah, it would take some time for Goldust to process all that.

In the meantime, Undertaker was walking back to the hotel in very quick steps, and he could swear his face was warm but... that was absurd. His whole body was always ice cold. He couldn't possibly be warm.

… Right?


	8. An Incident of International Proportions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at first I had something completely different in mind for the ending of this chapter, but then I figured out a different anding would give me a better hook for what I have planned for the next chapter, and lo and behold, have a chapter that starts good but ends bad.
> 
> Also apparently I need to include all the matches Undertaker and Goldust had on this fic to give it more credibility..........

The events that followed Goldust and Undertaker’s lunch were a little strange, but not in a particularly bad way. Although Undertaker would highly appreciated if Goldust was a little more low key about what he did. Not that he expected discretion from the other man, but one could dream.

Getting things delivered to him right at his locker room’s door wasn’t exactly subtle. Not to mention it made it very hard to keep a lid on things.

The stuff that was left on his doorstep was quite varied. At least Undertaker couldn’t complain about Goldust being uncreative with gifts. He got all sorts of things, ranging from complicated flower arrangements to small boxes with slices of very elaborate cakes inside. Undertaker didn’t have to eat for sure, but he most definitely wasn’t complaining about sinking his teeth into soft, sickeningly sweet pieces of dessert.

At some point, it occurred to him: was that courting? Was that what Goldust was trying to do with him? Get his attention and sympathy through gifts? He couldn’t say it wasn’t working. After all, he definitely wasn’t used to that kind of attention. He was far more used to people being interested in him because they wanted to beat his ass.

It was… refreshing to have someone care in such a way, even if Undertaker knew there were ulterior motives for Goldust to be showering him with attention and presents. But even him, who wasn’t used to this type of relationship dynamic, wasn’t clueless enough to turn down all that pampering. He was clueless, not stupid.

He kind of felt bad for never really returning those favors though. After all, what was he supposed to do? Was Goldust expecting gifts back? And even if he was, what was Undertaker supposed to give him anyway? He could always send flowers back but… well, how unoriginal and bland. And he was willing to guess Goldust wasn’t going to be impressed by some flowers bundled up in a bouquet like he himself was the first few times those showed up on his doorstep. Not to mention that whatever meaning he tried to convey through said flowers would fly straight over Goldust's head.

In the meantime, Goldust was clearly letting himself get a little carried away. When did he become the type to give gifts like that, without any real planning? Just throwing them at the other person’s direction, hoping for the best. And because Undertaker never denied any of his gifts, he started to get more and more excited about it, looking for bigger, more lavish presents every single time.

Marlena even had to come around and warn him about spending up all his savings, if he kept going like that, which was the only reason why he slowed down. The fact Undertaker was eating up those gifts like he was getting addicted to them got Goldust to think way less rationally. Goldust could see, every time he sneaked about to watch Undertaker open the door to his locker room to find a gift box lying there, that there was a small spark to the deadman’s eyes everytime. A spark that he had never seen before.

And, in turn, Goldust got addicted to watching that the same way Undertaker grew to expect more presents.

Although, Goldust figured he couldn’t keep going on like that. Ever since they had lunch together, they didn’t really speak to each other at all. And then defaulted back to silly high school tactics, of leaving presents on each other’s doors. Or at least Goldust was doing that.

He couldn’t believe how they always fell back into that setting every time. When were they going to start acting like proper adults anyway? It was about time, especially since they were approaching their rematch in less than a month, and Goldust had no idea what was going to happen then if they kept avoiding each other, verbally wise.

After all, for all effects, they still hated and despised each other, for anyone watching from the outside. But Goldust had absolutely no interest in genuinely hurting Undertaker. Sure, he probably couldn’t truly hurt him, with him being undead and all, but still beating up someone you look forward to being in a relationship with is very ill advised.

They needed to sit down and discuss the matter. And that was exactly what Goldust attempted to do.

Like it or not, Goldust had learned Paul Bearer's day to day patterns, and when he was around or not. It wasn't something he was super interested in knowing, but it was necessary. He was quite aware Undertaker didn't want to get Bearer involved in what was going on, and Goldust certainly supported that decision wholeheartedly, so having conversations and other interactions away from his watchful eye was for the best.

Goldust knocked on the door to Undertaker's locker room at a time he knew Bearer wouldn't be around to act like some unwilling chaperone, and opened his best smile when the other answered.

“It sure has been a long time since we talked, hm?” Goldust said promptly.

“Yes. … What is it that you want?” Undertaker said, wondering if that came out too rude or dry.

“Can I come in? I don't want to stand around at your door and give people the wrong idea.” Goldust said, pretty much inviting himself in by walking past Undertaker with no hesitation whatsoever.

The deadman just stood there for a moment, torn between feeling straight up angry at Goldust's nerve to just enter his room without even waiting for answer, and feeling relieved that others wouldn't see them talking to each other and start asking questions or spreading rumors.

He decided to go with a little bit of both.

“So, I'm here to talk to you about our upcoming rematch. You know, the one your manager so direly demanded.” Goldust said, watching the other close the door.

“What about it?” Undertaker asked, still standing near the door.

“Well, I'm not particularly looking forward to punching you in the face. And I think it's safe to assume you are not in the mood to do that to me either.” Goldust took a look around and his eyes rested on a nearby vase filled with flowers. Flowers he gave to Undertaker. “Although, we can't just call the whole thing off. I mean, for one thing, I'm sure you don't want to attract people's attention to our... relationship. And second, we cannot disappoint all the wonderful people who'll be paying to watch us beat each other up on live TV.”

“I would have no problem with putting up a real match against you.” Undertaker said dryly. To him, them wrestling had absolutely nothing to do with whatever they did outside the ring.

“... You sure are a charmer...” Goldust's smile faltered for a moment, as a small hint of fear took over him. He honestly thought that all the attention and gifts would make Undertaker a lot softer, but clearly that didn't change anything. “Well, **I** still don't want to hurt you.”

“Do not worry about me.” Undertaker didn't understand why Goldust was even worried. He could handle a lot of physical pain.

“Ugh, you are just... you are so dense, did anyone ever tell you that?” Goldust let out a huff of air, taking a few steps towards Undertaker. “What part of 'I don't want to hurt you' can't you understand?”

“I understood that part perfectly. What I do not understand is how you intend on putting up a credible match and not hurt me in any way.” Undertaker crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Alright, fine, you want a stupid match that's real, fine, I'll give that to you.” Goldust rolled his eyes. “But let it be known that you are the one asking for it.” He couldn't believe that guy. But then again, not putting up a real fight would mean he was letting outside factors interfere with ring business, which he said he wouldn't let happen. “Still, we can't just have some boring, old match. We need to give our audience something they can remember for years to come.”

“And what exactly does that entail?” Undertaker wasn't sure if he liked whatever Goldust was planning.

“It entails surprising them with something unexpected.” Goldust was smiling again, the cogs in his brain working at full speed now.

“What you mean sur-” Undertaker started, but stopped dead on his tracks when Goldust placed the tip of a gloved finger on top of his lips.

“Don't worry your pretty head with that. I'll have it all figured out until we get to our match.” Goldust said plainly, giving Undertaker a wink. “Now I better take my leave before your mentor comes around and chases me off with a broom or something.”

Goldust simply waved at Undertaker as he walked past him, opening the door and shutting it behind him, as the deadman just stood still, lips still a little parted, even though he knew absolutely nothing would come out of them. He then quickly brushed the tips of his own fingers on top of his lips, trying to figure out where Goldust's actions came from.

All the while, Goldust was already quite ways from Undertaker's door. There was someone he needed to talk to. Undertaker wanted real? He was going to give him the realest match possible.

The remaining days until their rematch went by without anything really out of the ordinary. There was a considerable slow down on the gifts Goldust sent Undertaker's way, but aside from that nothing much happened. Although Undertaker sure was a little curious about whatever Goldust was planning for the match. He could only hope it wasn't anything too crazy, but considering that Goldust had an “anything goes” attitude, he couldn't help but be a little preoccupied.

When International Incident rolled in, Undertaker felt slightly anxious, which was unusual for him when it came to going into the ring. But circumstances were just so out of the ordinary this time around it was hard not to.

For the longest time at the start of the match, Undertaker kept asking himself just what Goldust's plan even was, that required him to stall for such a long time until they started their match proper.

And when it started... well, Goldust sure was true to his word when he said he was going to give Undertaker a real match. Surely Undertaker could handle pain just fine, but the fact remained Goldust was aiming at his lower back far too much, and when he was thrown at the exposed turnbuckle, right after being hit by those steel steps, he could swear he almost saw stars. For a guy who didn't want to hurt him, he sure was quite determined to doing so.

At some point in their match, Undertaker could swear he saw Goldust flashing him the briefest of smiles, and he wondered what that was all about. He didn't have to wonder for long though, because not much longer after that, Mankind emerged from under the ring, dragging Undertaker down with him.

When that happened, Goldust had to hold back a chuckle that tried to escape from his lips. He didn't quite know what Mankind was going to do, but he sure did not expect him to be that creative. He made a mental note to compliment the other man on that.

But that would come later. Now, he was just going to use the opportunity to slip away from the ring, and as he did so, with Marlena right by his side, he could hear her laugh softly under her breath. She probably thought all that was absolutely ridiculous. And, in a way, she was right.

Undertaker on the other hand, was not amused in the least. In fact, he was very much angry about having a match disturbed by Mankind yet again. This was getting old real fast, and his patience for it was growing very, very thin, which was made quite evident by how he pretty much hunted down Mankind back into the bowels of the stadium they were at, and didn't let go until he gave the other man a lesson he wouldn't soon forget.

Much later after that, when almost everyone was already gone from the building, Undertaker was sitting down on a bench, one of his hands rubbing his lower back as he stared at the ground. Bearer had gone off somewhere, saying something about Mankind which Undertaker barely paid attention to. All he knew was that he was able to release some of his stress by beating him almost senseless, but there was still some anger boiling up in the back of his mind.

He sensed someone getting close and didn't even bother looking, because he knew just who it was.

“I knew you would still be here.” Goldust said as he plopped down on the bench next to Undertaker, his make up still all smeared.

“Was that your 'surprise'?” Undertaker asked, arms resting on his thighs.

“Why, yes! I figured getting Mankind involved would be a nice addition, with all the conflict between the two of you. Didn't take much to convince him to do it. The guy sure hates you.” Goldust looked at Undertaker from the corner of his eyes, trying to read the deadman, and all he could see was annoyance.

“Trust me. The feeling is mutual.” Undertaker's tone was stern.

“You really roughed him up afterwards, didn't you? I mean, I didn't get to see anything but I heard people say you cornered him in some dark corr-”

“Shut up!” Undertaker said, almost shouting, clenching his fists. “Was that your plan? Make me look like an idiot in front of everyone by being ambushed by the same man twice?”

Goldust didn't say anything. He just stared at Undertaker with eyes a little wide. He wasn't prepared for that outburst at all.

“I do not care about whatever is happening between us, you are not going to use that to make a fool out of me.” Undertaker was pretty much talking through his teeth.

“I... I'm not approaching you as a ploy to make you look bad!” Goldust glared at Undertaker, actually insulted the other man thought this was his end goal. “I just did something I thought would be funny, but apparently I messed up. I just didn't know you would throw a fit because of it.”

“Throw a fit...” Undertaker shook his head before getting up, rubbing his lower back briefly. His lips parted for a moment for him to say something, but he stopped himself, just letting out a groan before leaving. Suddenly being in the company of Paul didn't seem like a bad idea.

Goldust didn't say anything to stop Undertaker from walking away. Alright, if he couldn't take a joke, than that was his problem. He crossed his arms, fingers gripping at his forearms. Yes. It was his problem.

… But if it was Undertaker's problem, than why he felt so responsible for what just happened?

 


	9. The Only Torn in Your Garden Is You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter came out....... very fast.
> 
> Like I'm as shocked as you all, honestly! BUT, the thing is I've been wanting to write down the stuff that goes in this chapter for a long time now, so that means I was mega inspired and ready to do it. Also this chapter has 1,000+ words more than the previous, horray!
> 
> So get ready for feels, and expansion on these dorks personalities and inner thoughts, and my favorite personal headcanon for Undertaker!

On the week following the disaster that took place in International Incident, Undertaker barely showed up. He holed himself up inside his funeral home, even more than usual, and decided to dedicate almost all his time to work. Even though some of the tasks he chose to do were very repetitive and droning, those activities always helped him when he needed to take his mind away from anything that was bothering him at the moment.

Still, there were still invasive thoughts bubbling on the back of his mind whenever he decided to take any break.

What infuriated him the most was the fact that he should have known better. He knew he was letting himself get involved far too easily, but for whatever reason that didn't seem like the wrong thing to do. For once he didn't want to be paranoid about something. And now he felt like he just allowed someone to make a complete ass of himself.

He also hated how much that bothered him. That shouldn't stick to him so much and yet, there he was, banging on nails with a hammer with way more force than necessary, in an attempt to let all his frustrations out. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn't. He honestly just wanted to default back to a couple months ago, when he would just go through the day without really reacting much to anything. When was the last time he was able to completely detach himself from everything and not even think twice about anything?

By the end of the week, during the day, he heard a knock on the front door of the parlor, and quickly got up to answer it. He knew is wasn't Bearer, because he didn't bother knocking, so he just figured it was some costumer, which was good, since business had been quite slow.

“Good aft-” Undertaker started, but stopped talking immediately when he saw who was at the door.

“Can... can we talk?” Goldust's voice was quiet, almost shaky, which was very uncharacteristic of him. He was very, very nervous, and he wasn't even trying to disguise it. In fact, he had no idea why he was there in the first place, because he was sure Undertaker didn't want to talk to him at all, and probably he should have waited more than just one week to let the deadman's feelings simmer down, but honestly, with how much he screwed things up, he couldn't possibly make them worse, right?

“I am not interested.” Undertaker said flatly, moving to close the door, but was stopped midway by Goldust holding it.

“Look, I just... just give me five minutes.” Goldust hated just how pleading his voice was sounding. Hated it, but didn't quite care. That past week was awful and being alone with his thoughts just made him feel even more guilty about what he did, so he wanted to at least say something to get him and Undertaker in better grounds.

“... Five minutes it is.” Undertaker let go of the door and walked away from it so Goldust could enter. He would let the other talk, but he couldn't guarantee he would pay attention.

Goldust nervously walked inside in short steps, then pushed the door just enough to keep it a little ajar. For a moment, he just stood there in the middle of the room, looking around. Surely, since they were in a funeral parlor, he expected things to be a bit grim, but there was something downright chilling about the entire place, with sharp tools hanging on the walls and pieces of wood scattered all over, a strange smell hanging in the air.

Goldust scratched his forearm, trying to find what to say as Undertaker walked up to a nearby casket, picking up a piece of sandpaper to smooth out the surface of the lid.

“I suggest you speak up. Your time here is limited.” Undertaker said, not taking his eyes away from his work.

“Yes... right...” Goldust searched his mind for something to say as he chewed on his bottom lip. In retrospect, he should have written down everything on a piece of paper, because he didn't even know where to begin. “Whatever you are thinking I tried to do, I... I didn't mean to.”

Undertaker said nothing in response, still focused on the task at hand.

“It was... it was a bad idea I admit it. I just... I guess I thought it would be a little funny to reprise what happened when we had our first match. I didn't... I don't want to make you look like a fool.” Goldust rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't even sure if Undertaker was listening to what he was saying. He seemed far more interested on the casket's lid than on him.

“I know you are probably not going to buy this, and you are going to think I'm just saying it to get sympathy from you, because, well, I keep playing it like I'm very secure about what I'm doing all the time, but...” Goldust paused, letting out a sigh. “All this that's going on between us. I'm... not very used to that.”

Goldust was way more used to his romantic escapades being more fleeting than what he was trying to achieve with Undertaker. All his past relationships – at least the ones that got to an intimate level – required far less thought and planning, and all feelings were kept at a minimum. Everything was very superficial and physical, and he grew bored of most of his playmates within a month or two.

But Undertaker was more complicated than that, not only because he was a complex individual, but because Goldust's interest was very real. He knew he wasn't just going to get tired of him in a short amount of time. The fact he had been running after Undertaker for over two months now was a dead giveaway. Although, how was he supposed to handle something he knew so little about? Goldust could shove all the gifts in the world in the deadman's face, but what good would that do if he didn't even know how to act around and towards him?

It felt like he finally got a step forward into their relationship only to immediately go three steps back.

“I know my lack of actual experience with this doesn't really take away the weight from what I did, but I just want you to understand I'm shooting in the dark here.” Goldust sounded a little exasperated as he spoke. “I want you to understand what I did wasn't deliberate and... I'm sorry.”

Goldust swallowed dryly, waiting to see if Undertaker would say anything, but he just kept on paying attention to the casket in front of him.

“Well, heh... I guess my five minutes are up, hm?” Not that Goldust was keeping track. His time probably wasn't up at all, but he figured it was useless to hang around with Undertaker not really in the mood to listen to him. He should probably try to come over some other time. Or maybe not come back at all. “I guess I sho-”

“Did you mean it?” Undertaker finally spoke up, as he stopped working on the lid and finally looked up to Goldust for the first time since he entered. “That you are sorry?”

Goldust blinked a few times, as his mind drew a blank for a second.

“Of course I do!” Goldust said, a little louder than he intended to. He let out a loud exhale and felt his shoulders drop. “I meant it. Listen, you are not an idiot at all. It was never my intention to make you look like one.” It was his turn to avert his gaze away from Undertaker. “I just never know what to do with you. Or for you. Ugh... this is so frustrating...” He rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers.

Undertaker found it odd, but also a little enticing, that Goldust was acting completely outside of his regular self. It was seriously fascinating to watch someone who was always so full of himself to finally show some manner of humbleness. See him admit he made a mistake. He wasn’t totally sure if the other was being sincere with everything he said, because he was slowly learning it was hard to tell when Goldust stopped “acting” and when he started being himself, but he decided to believe in his words for the time being. Even if some degree of anger was still lodged inside his mind and it would take more than a “sorry” to dissipate that.

“Never expected to hear you admitting you are wrong.” Undertaker said, going back to his woodwork.

“Suppose there’s a first time for everything.” Goldust still kept gazing at the floor.

When was the last time Goldust admitted to a mistake? He couldn’t quite recall. In a way, he blamed the world he lived in for that kind of behavior. Hollywood was a universe which was both wonderful and unforgiving, and in a way it helped shape his personality into what it presently was. In the land of the stars, you either act as confident as you possibly can, or you risk having everyone stepping all over you at the first opportunity they get. And Goldust was good at acting confident. Maybe too good. To the point he came off as totally egotistic, and he never allowed anyone to see past that.

But he was more than okay with letting his guard down for a while if it meant Undertaker would understand where he was coming from. Understand he wasn’t as perfect as he would like to believe he was.

“So... you have a very quaint place here.” Goldust took another look around the parlor, trying to feel more at ease, but it was a hard. He definitely was not used to a place that rustic, and those tools lining the wall were still making him nervous, specially with Undertaker still being fairly angry at him.

Undertaker just nodded. Quaint wasn't exactly the word he would use to describe a funeral home, but he figured Goldust was just trying to be nice, and in a way he appreciated it. Most people didn't even try to disguise their discomfort when they entered his establishment. Not that he gave a damn about what they thought, but it was a little refreshing to see someone make an effort.

Goldust walked around for a while, trying to figure out what to do next. He didn't want to say anything that could undo the little good he did by going there, so he decided to wait and see if Undertaker was going to say anything. And, after what seemed like hours of silence, save for the sound of sandpaper against wood, the deadman finally spoke.

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, putting down the sandpaper.

“Hm? Waiting for?” Goldust sounded a little surprised by the question. “... I'm not waiting for anything.”

“Then why are you still here?” Undertaker couldn't understand why he would just stay there, considering he clearly already said everything he wanted to.

“Eh... Well, I don't really have anything to do or anywhere to go, so... Unless you are one of those people who can't work while someone is watching?” Because Goldust didn't want to disturb Undertaker's job. He knew very well how annoying it was to have others disrupt your work.

“I do not care either way.” Undertaker said, walking up to the backdoor of the parlor and opening it.

The creaking from the door shot a shiver right down Goldust's spine he most definitely wasn't prepared for. Why everything about Undertaker had to be so chilling and creepy? And speaking of creepy, when Undertaker left, Goldust quickly followed him out. He didn't want to be left alone inside a room full of caskets.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw on the back of the house though.

There was a large yard on the back, with a small dirt path lined by what seemed like hundreds of flowers of all types and colors. The fact the sun was still high in the sky and shining down on all those plants made them contrast with the interior of the parlor way more than they already would.

For a long while, Goldust just stood near the door, looking around and watching the flowers sway with the wind, as Undertaker grabbed a watering can to cater for them. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to see on the back of that place, but it certainly wasn't that at all. He was more or less expecting a makeshift graveyard of sorts. Pet cemetery maybe. Even a Native American burial ground would be highly accepted. Not a field of flowers straight out of a dream.

“... Is there anything wrong?” Undertaker asked, stopping watering the flowers for a moment.

“Hm?” Goldust was so distracted he barely registered what Undertaker said to him. “No, nothing's wrong is just... Did you... Was it you who grew all of these?” Goldust gestured at the flowers.

“Yes...?” Undertaker raised an eyebrow at that, going back to taking care of the plants. “It is far less expensive to grow them myself for wreaths and arrangements than to buy them somewhere.”

“This... this is so impressive. They are all so beautiful... And you don't even have a greenhouse.” Goldust stared in fascination, crouching near a rosebush. Needless to say, the aroma on the back of the house was incredible, with all those flowery smells filling the air.

“I suppose.” Undertaker couldn't understand what was so mind blowing about growing a few flowers. He figured it was unusual for **him** to be good at it, but anyone could do something like that, right?

“For how long have you been doing this?” Goldust asked, leaning closer to the roses to sniff at them a little better.

“Been years. Helps me take my mind out of things.” Undertaker treated his garden not only as part of his work, but also has a type of therapy. When he turned undead, he thought he would lose interest on the garden, but as it turned out, he actually grew even more attached to it then ever before.

“So you take care of them, and put together the arrangements, all by yourself?” Goldust had to admire someone with such passion for his job.

“Mostly. Bearer helps me sometimes, with the arrangements that is. I once let him take care of the garden and he somehow managed to kill my snapdragons within a week.” Since then Undertaker didn't allow anyone get near his garden for the purpose of taking care of it.

“Hah, I don't even know what snapdragons are.” Goldust let out a soft chuckle. He then felt Undertaker approach him, handing him a branch full of small, yellow, funny looking flowers.

“This. This is snapdragon.” Undertaker said, as Goldust got the branch from his hand.

“Oh, I see.” Goldust looked over the flowers for a moment. They were pretty cute and had a nice smell to them. “You shouldn't have picked them just to show them to me though.”

“I have plenty of them.” Undertaker paused for a moment, looking at Goldust as he seemed to analyze the flowers very intently. “Those suit you well.”

“Suit me? What you mean?” Goldust stood up, still looking at the snapdragons.

“Their meaning I mean.” Undertaker went back to watering.

“Ah, and what's the meaning of these?” Goldust opened a soft smile.

“They mean grace.” Goldust's smile opened even more at Undertaker's words. “But they can also mean deception and presumption.”

“T-That's not funny!” Goldust's smile immediately turned into a frown. “Pick a better one!”

“That was not meant to be a joke. And I do not think there is a better one.” Undertaker answered without missing a beat, ignoring Goldust's little tantrum.

“Oh yeah? And what's your flower? Something that means 'I'm a rude ass'?” Goldust asked. Despite the fact he was offended, he still kept holding on to the branch of snapdragons Undertaker gave him.

“Lavender.” Undertaker said, as he grabbed a spray bottle filled with homemade pesticide that was sitting on the ground before crouching near a bush. Those aphids were back at it again.

“And what do they mean?” Goldust assumed it probably meant something along the lines of eternal doom or death.

“Solitude.” Undertaker simply replied, clearly way more preoccupied with the insects around his plants than on the mater at hand.

“Oh...” Goldust didn't know what to say. That wasn't really the reply he was expecting. It was quite the downer, to hear Undertaker identified with a flower that pretty much meant loneliness. “Was it always like this? I mean, was this the flower you always felt connected to?”

“... Not really.” Undertaker paused what he was doing for a moment, gripping the bottle on his hand. “But this is of no importance.”

“Yes, it is. That's why I asked.” Goldust walked up to where Undertaker was, looking down at him. “Tell me.”

Undertaker felt his hold on the bottle loosen a little, and he let out an almost silent sigh. “Snowdrops.” He said, almost too quietly.

“Hm? Snowdrops? Aren't those the ones that bloom when snow is thawing or something?” Goldust asked. He honestly didn't know anything about flowers at all. And now, thinking back to all the bouquets he sent Undertaker's way, he was suddenly afraid of having sent types that meant something bad.

“Yes. I just... For a long time I was trying to thrive, just like snowdrops do at the end of winter. The first ones to overcome the snow and the cold.” Undertaker put the bottle down before standing up. “But after some time I began to realize not even all the thriving in the world would be enough to make me feel better. The years were passing and I kept feeling... lonesome.” He picked up the watering can once more, going back to his previous task. Why was he even talking about that?

Goldust watched Undertaker for a while. The look on his face was dark, but it wasn't the usual grimness he showed in the ring or when talking about how much he wanted to watch someone's carcass rotten under the ground. It was something that went far deeper than that.

“Is that why you don’t mind having Bearer around? Because having him as company is better than having no one?” Goldust asked.

“He is not optimal company, but he helps.” Undertaker put the watering can down, taking a moment to look at the flowers. “But I suppose I just grew used to the solitude.”

Without a second thought, Goldust reached for Undertaker’s wrist and grabbed it lightly with a gloved hand.

“I don’t want you to keep feeling lonely.” Goldust said, smiling as warmly as he could.

Undertaker stared at the hand on his wrist, then looked up at Goldust’s face, and for a moment there was a void inside his brain. Was he supposed to say or do something? And if he was, what he could even say or do? And suddenly he felt that weird warmth spread across his face again, just like when he left the restaurant more than a month before.

Then, Goldust let out a light laugh, and Undertaker looked at him with a puzzled look, snapping out of his surprise some. “What is…”

“Your face got all red. I didn’t even know you could blush.” Goldust sounded very amused, especially when he saw Undertaker’s eyes widen.

Undertaker pulled his wrist away, nervously looking around as he scrambled around his brain for something to say.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you look adorable when all flustered like that?” Goldust said, not even slightly surprised when Undertaker seemed to choke on air, nervously walking past him.

“Stop saying stupid things.” Undertaker stammered, as he walked back inside.

Goldust followed him, a smile spread on his lips. He rather much preferred when they were on situations like those, where he could watch Undertaker fumble with words nervously. There was something oddly charming about that.

“Sorry, I was just stating a fact.” Goldust said as he entered, watching Undertaker get all hunched over near a work table, suddenly seeming very interested on organizing a pile of nails.

“Bearer will be here any minute now.” Undertaker straight up lied, hoping that would get Goldust out of the parlor. Not because he wanted him out, but because he was getting increasingly more nervous and he had run out of things to say. At least things that wouldn't embarrass him even more.

“Unbelievable...” Goldust let out a sigh. He really didn't want to ruin that day by listening to Paul's high pitched voice. “I'll take my leave then.” He paused for a moment, then spoke up again. “I would like to hear more about flowers from you, whenever you have the time.”

Undertaker stopped what he was doing briefly to look over his shoulder. “Yes, I could tell you more about it.”

“Wonderful! Oh, and don't go missing for a week like you did. Everything was very boring without you around.” Goldust commented, before walking up to the front door. “See you tomorrow?”

“... Yes.” Undertaker said, back to paying attention to the nails lying on the table.

Goldust shook his head, then walked out the door, and it was just then he realized he was still clutching to the branch of yellow snapdragons Undertaker gave him.

… _Grace and deception._ Goldust thought to himself as he looked at them, before looking back at the door to the parlor. He shook his head, letting out a laugh. A garden, who would have thought! Honestly, if he told anyone that The Undertaker, of all people, took care of an amazing garden on the back of his funeral home, no one would believe him.


	10. California Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well I kind of went overboard with this chapter because it is bordering the 5,000 words... But then again this was one of the things i wanted to write the most on this fic, so there's that.
> 
> Are you ready for fluff? Because I sure as hell am!

“When are you going to visit me?”

Undertaker finally paid more attention to what Goldust was saying to him over the phone than on the tone of his voice.

They had finally started talking on the phone again, which, for Undertaker, was a huge relief, because it made it a little easier for him to carry on a conversation, even though he had admit that last time they saw each other in person, a few days prior, he did feel more at ease to speak. Maybe because he was in an angry mindset, which he was more used to, or because he was at his parlor and felt at ease.

“… Visit you?” He asked, not sure what Goldust meant.

“Well, I paid a visit to your little shop. I thought you could return the favor and come visit my humble abode.” Goldust said, as he filed his nails. “And next week would be the best time for that, since we all be on the sunny state of California.”

“I am… not sure.” Undertaker didn’t want to make a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. It wasn’t like him to do something like that.

“I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to, I hope you know that.” Goldust would love to have Undertaker over, but he wasn’t going to put their progress at risk again.

“I am aware.” Undertaker was slowly realizing that most things Goldust did and said had no real deliberation behind them. It was more like he did things without really thinking them through, and without thinking of the consequences. Almost like he never had to deal with the fallout that came from his actions.

“The offer still stands though. I just think we should meet there so we don’t have the stress of your mentor popping up and killing the mood.” Goldust still couldn’t believe Bearer was making a big deal out of them meeting up. Undertaker was a full-grown man. He could make his own decisions if he wanted to. “Ah, I have to go now. Marlena is ready for our dinner. I’ll talk to you later.” He said with a smile, hanging up the phone.

The next week rolled in, and by Saturday, Goldust realized Undertaker wasn’t going to come over to his fine penthouse in the heart of Hollywood. The deadman didn’t mention anything about that the entire week, so he assumed the subject was dropped entirely. It was a bit disheartening he had to admit, as he was looking forward to spending some time truly alone with Undertaker. But maybe it was too soon for that type of stuff to happen. He could only assume Undertaker wasn’t the type of guy who was invited to people’s homes very often, so taking that step was too much.

Then, his phone rang, and much to his surprise Undertaker was on the other side. Goldust had called him earlier that day. It was unusual for them to speak twice the same day.

Undertaker sounded a little jittery and nervous, his voice a little quiet, almost as if he didn’t want any words to come out of his mouth. For a moment, Goldust thought something bad was going on, but then his worries quickly dissolved when he realized just what the other was trying to say, or rather, ask. He wanted to know his address, said he wanted to visit, putting great emphasis on ‘maybe’.

Goldust happily gave him the full address, hoping Undertaker would go through with it.

He just didn’t expect the deadman to do so just an hour or so later.

When he heard the phone again, it was the doorkeeper telling him someone was there to see him. And for a moment, Goldust heart began to race. Not because Undertaker was just downstairs, but because he wasn’t even remotely ready to have a guest over. Didn’t Undertaker understand anything about etiquette? You can’t just show up at someone’s house unannounced like that.

But Goldust couldn’t just tell Undertaker to come back some other time. After all, who knew when he would have the chance to have the deadman over again? He told the doorkeeper to tell Undertaker he could come up, and as soon as he hung up he started scrambling around the apartment trying to figure out the best way to look “presentable” in the small window of time he had. Luckily, the apartment itself wasn’t looking too bad as he barely did anything there, save for watching the TV while munching on some leftovers from the day before.

He had absolutely no time to put any make up on – save for a dash of black lipstick – but was able to slip into some better clothes and don his wig in record time. So many years working on the movie industry taught him a thing or two when it came to switching looks rather quickly.

Goldust was just about done giving his wig a last brush when he heard knocking on the front door. He walked to it in quick steps, slightly nervous, but also excited. Never in a million years he imagined he could get this far with the deadman.

He opened the door and offered Undertaker a wide, warm smile.

“I didn’t expect you to come around so soon.” Goldust said, watching the other man fumble with his fingers a bit.

Undertaker hesitated saying anything for a moment or two. To be perfectly honest he had no idea why he decided to go there, but apparently at some point during his motorcycle ride that sounded like an excellent course of action. Now that he was there, he wasn’t so sure about it.

“I… decided to do it on a whim.” Which wasn’t like him at all. He was a lot more calculated than that.

“Well, don’t just stand there at the door, come in, will you?” Goldust moved from the door to give the other room to enter.

There was a silent from undertaker as he entered, eyes quickly scanning the entire place. Goldust’s place was… kind of how he imagined it would be, really, with furniture and décor everywhere, ornate wallpaper on some of the walls, vibrant colors on the others, everything looking very expensive and also very gaudy. Not that it made him feel any more comfortable, as he never found himself in a place quite like that.

“What you think of the place? I was sure to decorate it just the right way to reflect my uniqueness.” Goldust stated proudly as he closed the door. If there was something he loved, that something was his home.

“… Indeed it is very… unique.” Undertaker wasn’t sure if that was the word he would use to describe the place, but thought it would not be polite to just say what came to his mind. He nervously scratched his forearm as he looked around some more. “I am… not sure why you wanted me to come over.”

“Just wanted to spend some time with you, that’s all. Ah, please, give me your hat and your coat so I can hang them.” Goldust said, putting out his arms. He could not believe the other was all dressed up like that, with how hot it was outside. He most definitely didn’t perceive weather like most people.

Undertaker took off his hat and coat, handing them to Goldust who put them away on a nearby coat hanger. He knew Goldust was just being polite, but now he just felt even more uncomfortable, standing there without his hat to cover up his eyes and without the sense of protection he got from his long coat.

“Now, let me show you around.” Goldust said, clearly eager to introduce every corner of his home to Undertaker.

He showed every room with much enthusiasm, describing where he got certain items that lined the many shelves there, talking about carpets and paintings and other things Undertaker knew little to nothing about, but he listened to everything Goldust was saying very closely. He just sounded so utterly passionate about it Undertaker didn’t have the heart to say that all that information was going to be lost on him.

Neither of them was keeping track of the time, but when they finally stopped walking around the apartment and stood next to a wide window on the living room, Goldust looked through it and looked quite surprised.

“Gosh, the sun is going down already? It looks like the time went flying by…” He sighed. “Please, take a seat on the couch, I’ll go get something for us to drink, yes?”

Goldust walked out of the room, into the kitchen, and Undertaker sat down awkwardly on the couch that was right in front of the window. Didn’t take long for the other to be back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He set those down on the small coffee table in front of the couch before disappearing from Undertaker’s sight again. Then, Undertaker could hear music. It was some soft, instrumental tune that was far less extravagant than what he expected from Goldust.

“There, this is much better.” Goldust finally came back, sitting on the other end of the couch, much to Undertaker’s surprise.

Judging by the way Goldust behaved, Undertaker was more than prepared to having him sit uncomfortably close to him, but he did the complete opposite. Needless to say, that came out of left field, and Undertaker was a little surprised and not sure how to deal with it. Should he be grateful and relieved that Goldust wasn't trying to throw himself at him? Or should he be worried by that change of behaviour?

He watched as Goldust opened the bottle of wine and filled their glasses, all of that without saying a word. After talking so much, Undertaker thought he was strangely quiet. And it was stranger when he remained like that for a good while, apparently busy watching the sunset go by through the window. Undertaker decided to do the same.

After a while, he shifted on his seat a little. Now that they were sitting there in silence he finally realized nothing about the entire situation was exactly comfortable for him. He was way out of his comfort zone, and yet there he was. Sitting up all stiff on the couch, gaze focused on the large, panoramic window in front of him, the room painted in shades of orange and purple as the sun set ever so slowly. The music from before was still going, but he barely paid any attention to it.

And for whatever reason, Goldust’s silence was driving him crazy. What was he thinking? What was h planning on doing? Was Goldust expecting him to start some manner of conversation? It was a little frustrating. He hated being left guessing. He much preferred when things were more black and white. Although, expecting black and white from an individual like Goldust was pointless. He should’ve known that by now.

As his thoughts continued to drown the music filling the room, his eyes kept their focus on the window. The colors in the sky outside were quite a sight, and he felt himself slowly lean back on the couch. He was still tense, but allowed himself to relax just enough so he wouldn't strain his back even more. One could only stay stiff for so long before getting a backache.

“It's a truly marvelous view, isn't it?”

Undertaker blinked a few times, as if snapping out of a deep, long trance, then just nodded at those words, and not only for the sake of agreeing with them. It was indeed beautiful.

Goldust leaned forward, getting his glass of wine from the small table in front of the couch, then leaned back again, looking at the window through the glass.

“I specifically wanted to live here because of this view. I spent so many evenings here, just letting time waste away...” Goldust trailed off, taking a small sip of wine. Usually, he preferred to do that alone. Sit there and watch the sun lazily go down, head almost empty as he drank through a bottle of wine.

But he had no objections about having Undertaker there with him, even if he was just sitting there in total silence. Knowing the deadman was making him company… It was thrilling, and it gave him this weird feeling at the bottom of his stomach, which was similar to the feeling he got every time he prepared for a new and exciting role.

He threw his head back, then moved it to the side just enough so he could look Undertaker, swishing the wine that was inside his glass before taking a quick sip from it. What an amazingly fascinating person Undertaker was. In all his years dealing with all types of different people in the movie industry, no one could even begin to compare to that man sitting on the other end of his couch. No one was that unique or shrouded in mystery.

And he wanted to know more about Undertaker so badly. And that was why he had put all the playing and mindless flirting he always did with others to the side and began thinking before acting – or as much as his impulsive nature allowed him to. This was a lot more serious than just messing with someone in the ring. His interest was very real and genuine.

“You haven't touched your wine.” Goldust commented, shifting his gaze back to the window.

Undertaker's lips parted briefly, as he considered replying. He still couldn’t understand why Goldust bothered giving him food and drink when he didn’t even need those. He stopped midway though, lips closing again. He leaned forward, a gloved hand grabbing the glass in a less than graceful action. He placed it under his nose, sniffing it briefly. It had a strong, fruity smell, but it wasn't like he could detect much more than that.

There was a shrug and Undertaker literally downed the entire glass in one long gulp, firmly putting the glass down on the table again.

“How elegant.” Goldust's voice was full of amusement, his smile widening. It was kind of amazing to see someone down a glass of wine like that. Specially one as expensive as the one they were having.

All Goldust got in response was a grunt, as Undertaker leaned back on the couch, this time slightly less tense than before. All in all, that visit could be going a lot worse.

Goldust took another sip from his glass before putting it down on the table again. “It’s a pity you always get quiet like that. I sure like to hear your deep, gravelly voice.”

Undertaker shuffled his feet on the carpeted floor, arms crossing in front of his body as he tensed up again. Every time Goldust said anything akin to a compliment to him, he felt weird. He wasn’t even sure if it was a good or bad kind of weird at that point.

“You sure don't like it when I say even the slightest good thing about you, hm?” Goldust focused his gaze solely on Undertaker, forgetting about the view and the sunset entirely. “It's very hard for me to stop myself though. It's just how I am, you know?” He looked down to the floor for a moment, than back up at the other man. “Always found it a lot easier to simply make my opinions clear. Besides, I hate having dead air between me and someone else. It's just so dreadful and sad.” There was a pause, than Goldust let out a laugh, throwing his head back. “Oh dear... It seems I just figured why you love being quiet like that.”

There was a brief scoff from Undertaker as he once looked at Goldust from the corner of his eyes. Why was it so hard to simply look straight at him? In an impulsive action, he uncrossed his arms, leaning forward again to grab the bottle of wine sitting on the table and poured some more into his glass. He set the bottle down with a loud thud and grabbed the almost full glass in a rush to drink it all up in one go again. It was just when he was done drinking he realized that would help him none. It wasn't like alcohol had any effect on him anymore, so expecting some help from it was futile.

“Are you alright?” Goldust asked, not really sure what that was all about, but he sounded a little more than worried at Undertaker's sudden action.

“... No.” Undertaker muttered, putting the glass down and placing his elbows on his knees, resting his forehead on his hand, fingers buried on his hair.

“You knowyou are free to leave, right? You won't be hurting my feelings if you do.” Not that Goldust expected Undertaker to stay for the sake of his feelings. After all, the deadman didn't really strike him as the type who cared much about the emotional state of others.

Undertaker made a small, strangled noise, still staring down at his own feet. What did he think he was going to accomplish going there anyway? It was still hard to understand what was going on inside his head, but somehow he thought that going to Goldust's place was going to work out just fine. He should have just stayed put back in his funeral parlor, among the caskets and flowers. Stayed in his comfort zone.

He suddenly felt something on his shoulder that abruptly pulled him out of his thoughts and he stiffened up, moving away from it. His head snapped to the side and his line of sight fell straight into Goldust's eyes, and he just stood still, his own eyes wide. When did the other get so close to him?

“You. Can. Go.” Goldust paused between every word, a serious expression upon his face and his hand still hovering next to Undertaker's shoulder. As much as he enjoyed pushing people's limits and invading their personal space, Undert was a lot more nervous than usual. He supposed the deadman would be a little jittery like always, but whatever was going on went far beyond that.

Undertaker remained still, and for whatever reason could not stop staring into Goldust's eyes.

When he realized he wasn't going to get any response, Goldust shook his head, lips curving into a very slight smile as his fingertips softly touched the side of Undertaker's face. He expected the other to flinch or move away from it, but that didn't happen.

“This is the first time you looked into my eyes ever since you came through the front door.” Goldust's hand dropped to Undertaker's shoulder again, then ran down his arm, and finally reached his hand, his own resting on top of it. “I know you'll hate what I'm going to say but you look gorgeous under the sunset's lights.” He used his free hand to brush some strands of hair away from Undertaker's face, placing them behind his ear. Yes, he knew that sounded awfully corny, but he was just being sincere.

There was a short pause, and then Undertaker released a long huff of air he didn't even realize he was holding back in the first place. His free hand raised for a second, then dropped down to his lap again. He felt fingers intertwining with the ones on his other hand, and finally his gaze dropped down.

It was a lot less nerve wrecking to be looking at something else besides Goldust's large, inquiring eyes. Not that the sight of having his fingers interlaced with someone else's was something common, but it was far better.

He honestly wanted to say something, because he had been far quieter than usual ever since he got there, but what was he supposed to say anyway? It wasn't like he knew how to make small talk, or properly reply to whatever Goldust said to him without pathetically stumbling around his own thoughts and getting words stuck on his throat. And in turn those things made him feel stupid, causing him to grow even quieter in a weird type of never ending circle.

Instead of trying to speak up, he just curled his fingers so he could grip Goldust's hand a little.

“I want to touch your hand. Can I take off your glove?” Goldust asked, his voice soft.

“Y-Yes…” Undertaker muttered, still looking down at their hands. He watched as Goldust removed his own glove before taking his off.

And then warm fingers curled around his hand and he swallowed dryly. He honestly could not recall the last time someone touched him, save for matches. But that was… so different. It was light and warm.

“Oh dear… your hands are freezing! Is… is your entire body like that?” Goldust said, eyes a little wide in clear surprise. Well, he probably should have expected that, with Undertaker being “dead”, but it was still a bit of a shock.

“It is…” Undertaker suddenly grew very worried about Goldust’s opinion on that, and he didn’t even know why.

“That’s… so strange…” Goldust took off his other glove and grabbed Undertaker’s hand on both of his, rubbing his palms against his fingers. “And you never get warm?”

“Sometimes… Sometimes I do.” Undertaker replied. Even though heat never originated from within his body, lately he had been feeling his face quite warm whenever Goldust got too close to him, which was happening at that very moment.

“Heh… that explains why you are always covered up even when it’s hot outside.” Being that cold, Goldust figured it didn’t matter what he wore, he never felt just how warm it really was.

“Your hands are very warm.” Undertaker said and immediately cursed at himself mentally. Good grief, why did he even say that? That sounded absolutely dumb. Although, he was instantly relieved when Goldust chuckled.

“Thank you, I try.” Goldust pulled Undertaker’s hand closer to his face before placing light kisses on the knuckles and leaving behind small spots of black lipstick. It was a little strange kissing something so cold.

Undertaker was pretty sure that, if he had a beating heart, said heart would have stopped as soon as Goldust placed the first kiss on his hand. He watched everything with eyes wide, his whole body shuddering ever so slightly. What should he do? Should he say something? A part of him felt like pulling his hand away but he was so paralyzed he couldn’t do anything besides watch.

He was glad he didn’t flinch like some scared animal though, because after a couple seconds he seemed to relax a bit, the initial panic slowly wearing off. That… wasn’t bad at all. In fact, Undertaker found out he rather liked it. Being treated in such a delicate way was something he was not used to, but didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate it. It was a much welcome change of pace.

Goldust looked up at Undertaker’s face again, smiling at him. “Your cheeks again…” He said, and watched as Undertaker immediately looked away. He was just so strangely adorable when he was like that, when he didn’t have a cold, distant aura around him. Watching him get nervous and shy made him look a lot more human, and in a way, it was a bit of a relief for Goldust, and gave him something to look forward to. It meant there was something inside Undertaker that was still able to feel. Still able to reciprocate affection.

“You have nice hands, you know?” Goldust brushed his thumbs over the knots of Undertaker’s fingers. There were a few scars here and there, which Goldust assumed were due to Undertaker’s job of hammering on nails and sewing pieces of wood all day long, but those certainly didn’t bother him.

“…  I… thank you.” Undertaker didn’t know what he should say in return. What he did know was that Goldust’s hands were very soft, and were very nice to touch, so he wasn’t looking forward to them letting his hand go anytime soon. He didn’t comment on the softness of Goldust’s hands though. It was embarrassing enough when he said they were warm.

In an almost thoughtless motion, Undertaker grabbed Goldust’s hands in his and placed a rushed kiss on the back of one of them, not sure if that’s what Goldust was expecting or not.

Goldust blinked slowly, and then chuckled.

“You are so cute.” He commented, and watched Undertaker let out a huff.

“Don’t… I am not…” Undertaker stumbled around with his words, the grip he had on Goldust’s hand tightening.

“Do you want to keep watching the sunset with me?” Goldust asked, suddenly switching up the topic of the conversation on purpose. He didn’t want Undertaker to swing back into the uncomfortable headspace he was in before.

“… Yes.” Undertaker muttered, hesitating for a moment before continuing, but actually mustering the courage to keep talking. “Can… can you keep holding my hand?”

“Of course.” Goldust wasn’t even thinking about letting Undertaker’s hand go, but was elated to hear the other wanted him to keep doing it.

Goldust leaned back on the couch, keeping his fingers interlaced with Undertaker’s, and went back to looking out the window. Meanwhile, Undertaker did his best to keep himself relaxed, trying not to hold Goldust’s hand too strongly.

There was silence again, save for the music still echoing through the room, and Undertaker slowly but surely felt somewhat comfortable. Maybe… maybe he could get used to something like that. Be close to someone like that. It wasn’t as bad as he figured it would be. Sure he tensed up when Goldust rested his head on his shoulder, but not as much as he expected he would.

The sunset went by slowly, and at some point the music stopped, but Goldust made no mention of getting up and putting more to play. He was enjoying where he was far too much to let it go even for a moment. And, after a while, he even dozed off.

When it was finally dark outside and the moon was high up in the sky, Undertaker shifted around a little, which got Goldust to wake up.

“Goodness, is it nighttime already?” He said, using his free hand to rub one of his eyes as he looked at Undertaker. “How much time passed?”

“I… do not know.” Undertaker wasn’t exactly keeping track. “But I… I think I must go.”

“Go? But it’s dark outside. It might be dangerous for you to go out on your own.” Goldust said, before realizing who he was talking to about the dark being dangerous. Needless to say, he felt really stupid. Couldn’t he find a better excuse to hold Undertaker there?

“I am capable of taking care of myself.” Undertaker said. It wasn’t like he wanted to go though. It was more like he needed to.

“I know, I know.” Goldust said, letting go of Undertaker’s hand. “Will you… will you come visit some other time?”

“Yes… I would like to.” Undertaker almost said he would love to, but figured that was a way too strong word for him to use.

Goldust beamed. It was nice to know that Undertaker enjoyed his stay enough to consider coming over a second time. “Well, you can come around anytime then. The door is always open for you.”

“Appreciated.” Undertaker put his glove on again before getting up, being quickly followed by Goldust.

They walked up to the coat hanger, and Goldust helped Undertaker slip back into his coat before handing him over his hat.

“Thank you for inviting me.” Undertaker said, hiding his eyes under the brim of his hat, which didn’t last long because soon Goldust’s warm hand was on his face, guiding him to look at his face.

“You don’t need to thank me for anything.” Goldust said with a playful look on his face. “It was my _pleasure_.” His tone shifted from soft to teasing on that last bit, and he watched in amusement as Undertaker got nervous, but in the way he was used to see it happen.

“Y-Yeah… I will be going now…” Undertaker quickly moved to the door and opened it, leaving the apartment to take the elevator.

Goldust watched him through the open door, and saw it when he darted a glance over his shoulder as he entered the elevator. He waved Undertaker good bye and saw the deadman do the same in a quick, almost rushed motion, before the doors of the elevator closed.

With a light chuckle, Goldust locked the front door and leaned against it, sighing softly, already looking forward to their next meeting. But, if he wanted that to happen more frequently, there was one thing he needed to do, and he couldn’t keep postponing it.


	11. Two Types of People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actually I should have just named this God forsaken chapter DIALOGUE GALORE because that's literally all that happens.
> 
> But actual things will happen on the next chapter so REJOICE.  
> Also this chapter features an extra character so ARE U READY FOR THIS????

Even though Undertaker never said it openly when he left the apartment the day before, Goldust was quite sure he just left because, once again, he was trying his best to keep Bearer's questioning at the lowest possible. After all, he didn't forget what the deadman said that one time they had lunch together, that he didn't want Paul to bother him.

But Goldust thought all that was really stupid. He understood Undertaker didn't want to stay on bad terms with pretty much the only “friend” he had, but letting a manager control what you do and who you see was just ridiculous, and he was getting pretty damn tired of that.

So, the day after Undertaker's visit, he decided to show up at Undertaker’s locker room, decided to go talk to Bearer.

It was the first time he wasn't completely unhappy about the short man answering the door.

“What do you want? He's not here.” Paul said, assuming Goldust was there to talk to Undertaker. Honestly, he thought his protege was off with the other man – after all, Bearer wasn't stupid, he knew something was up between them – but now that Goldust was there he had no idea where Undertaker had ran off to.

“I'm not looking for him. I'm here to speak to you.” Goldust stated. “Can I come in or are you going to just leave me standing here?”

Bearer grunted, but still allowed Goldust to enter the room hoping that whatever the other man wanted to say was very brief. At the same time, Goldust was actually surprised Paul let him in. He was expecting to have the door shoved on his face.

“What do you want to talk about?” Bearer took a seat near a table.

“I don't know what Undertaker has been telling you, or avoiding telling you, but no matter what he's doing, I came here to tell you that a lot is going on between us.” Goldust wasn't going to specify what was happening, because he honestly didn't feel like it, but he expected Bearer to throw a fit right then and there.

“My Undertaker doesn't need to tell me what's happening. I know. I'm not an idiot.” Paul said, his demeanor barely changing.

“... Oh. You do?” Was all Goldust said. That certainly wasn't the reaction he was expecting. For someone who was so adamant about him staying away, Bearer suddenly seemed very accepting about the entire situation.

“Yes. He doesn't need to tell me. Before you came along he didn't just vanish out of sight without a word, neither did he space out.” Bearer explained, leaning back on his chair. “But I realized it was foolish to try and stop him.”

Goldust just stood there not quite believing those last words came out of Bearer's mouth. Was he just going to... accept what was happening? Well, that was a very welcome change.

“I don't need to stop him, because he's a grown man, and as one, I'm sure he'll eventually realize you are not adequate company.” Bearer said in a very neutral tone.

“… Excuse me?” Goldust asked, wrinkling his nose. 

“You heard me. I’m not sure what you are doing or saying to my Undertaker, but I’m certain he’ll soon realize you are simply tricking him into believing you are such a wonderful person.” There was a hint of disgust to Paul’s voice as he spoke, but he tried to keep an even tone.

“I… I’m not tricking him! This is not my intention at all!” Goldust raised his voice considerably. He couldn’t believe Bearer was simply assuming things about him.

“Save your breath. Your sweet talking isn’t going to work on me.” Bearer crossed his arms. He knew better than anyone that Undertaker had absolutely no experience dealing with people, and in a way he was somewhat sheltered and even a little naïve. And to Bearer, that was most likely the perfect prey for someone as crafty as Goldust.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t try to sweet talk you even if your were the last person on Earth.” Just the idea of doing something like that made Goldust sick to his stomach.

“I wonder what you have been saying to him to get him so enthralled by you. Maybe you are praising him non-stop? Or are you just telling him that you ‘love’ him?” Bearer was almost accusing as he spoke through his teeth, his mild demeanor slowly fading away.

“Maybe I’m just valuing him as a person, which is something you clearly never bothered doing.” Goldust felt his fists clench. He wanted to punch Bearer on his stupid, round face so badly… “Or maybe he’s realizing there’s more to life than following you around like some lost puppy.”

Bearer suddenly got up, which caused Goldust to flinch back a little, as that took him by surprise. The shorter man then gave a few steps towards him, staring straight into his eyes.

“Listen to me, and listen to me well. My Undertaker will not fall into your disgusting clutches. You must be thinking this is going to be easy, but it won’t. He would never associate to the likes of you.” Bearer was gritting his teeth as he spoke.

“The likes of **me**?” Goldust said, visibly insulted, because he knew just what Bearer was insinuating by saying that.

“I think it’s very plain for everyone to see you are not a very… proper individual.” Bearer scoffed.

“Now you listen to me. I may not be the most correct person in the world, but I’m not the despicable person you think I am.” Goldust said, fighting the urge to raise his hand at Bearer. He knew the shorter man would tell Undertaker all about it if he did, and that most certainly would set back their relationship once more. “You literally know nothing about me aside from what you see in the ring, so don’t act all high and mighty pretending you do.”

“Believe me, I know scum when I see it.” Bearer’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Goldust.

“Heh… you know what they say: it takes one to know one.” Goldust gave Bearer a half smile, watching as the other man’s face went red and he fumed.

“… Get out of my sight, **now**!” Bearer raised his voice, its pitch becoming even higher than usual.

With a smile still on his lips, Goldust mockingly bowed at Bearer before turning to take his leave. As he walked to the front door, he stopped for a moment, looking over his shoulder at the other man. “Oh, by the way, tell your lovely deadman I said ‘hi’ when you see him.” And said that, he opened the door and walked out of the parlor, still quite mad at what Bearer said, but glad he was able to have the last word.

In the meantime, Undertaker was pretty much on the other side of town, at a hotel that wasn’t the one him and Bearer were at, hoping to be able to talk to someone in particular.

One of the advantages of being so intimidating was that people didn’t withhold information from him, so it was easy to ask around and find out where the person he wanted to see was. Although, that same trait  got Undertaker to wonder if he would even be given the opportunity to start a conversation.

He shoved that thought to the side when he found himself at the door of the room he was told to go to. He knocked on the door a few times, and heard some rustling on the other side followed by a ‘just a minute’.

The door swung open, and a shirtless and visibly disheveled Shawn Michaels answered, eyes widening almost immediately at the sight of the deadman just standing right there at the door of his room.

A thousand thoughts crossed Shawn’s mind in less than a few seconds, as he tried to remember if he had angered Undertaker in any way the past days. After all, why else would he be there? But, damn, he didn’t even remember looking at the deadman, let alone doing something that could upset him in any way.

“Hey, hm… hi…?” Shawn leaned on the doorframe, attempting to look as calm and collected at possible, but knowing his voice was betraying him.

“I require your assistance.” Undertake said, and those words left a bas taste in his mouth. He hated relying on others for absolutely anything, but it came to a point where he could use some guidance.

“My assistance?” Shawn pointed at himself, sounding very confused. “You mean, you… You, Undertaker, need my help?” Now that was something he didn’t expect to hear in a million years. Was he still napping and in some kind of weird dream?

“It is a delicate subject matter and I would rather not discuss it here. May… may I come in?” Undertaker asked, already expecting Shawn to simply say ‘no’.

“Eh… Well, hm, sure. Come on it. Just… don’t mind the mess?” Shawn thought that maybe he should think twice before letting The Undertaker into a room with him, but since they had no bone to pick with each other, he decided to give the deadman the benefit of the doubt.

Undertaker nodded and entered the room, stepping over a pizza box which was lying on the floor and walking to stand near the bed, taking off his hat and holding to its brim a little nervously. He took a look around, eyes resting first and foremost on the very messy bed, and then on the two empty bottles of beer that were on the bedside table. There were pieces of clothing scattered everywhere, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine the type of stuff that happened inside Shawn’s room.

“Hey, take a seat. You standing around like that is making me nervous.” Shawn said, tidying up a chair that was near a desk before going to sit on the bed.

Undertaker sat down, setting his hat on the desk.

“So… this is very unusual.” Shawn placed his hands on his lap, bare feet tapping on the floor. “Either way, why do you need my help?”

“I have found myself in a very peculiar situation that I assume you are more experienced with, so I came here to ask for advice.” Undertaker interlaced his fingers, setting his hands on his lap.

“And what is this… _peculiar_ situation?” Shawn shifted from nervous to intrigued.

“I… I may have been… Recently I have been seeing someone.” Undertaker stared at his feet the whole time he spoke, shuffling his feet against the carpeted floor.

“… Oh, seeing someone? Well now, I’ll be damned…” Shawn ran his fingers through his hair, not even believing what he was hearing. “OK, no offense, but I had no idea you would ever be interested in this kind of stuff.”

“It just sort of happened.” Undertaker said quickly, as if trying to justify himself, even though there was no real reason to.

“And do you need my help handling that or…?” Shawn asked, tilting his head to the side.

“I did not expect things to develop this far, and as much as I would like to take the next step, I fear I am unsure of what course of action to take.” Undertaker kept staring at the floor, but his eyes nervously went from side to side. What happened the day before, with Goldust kissing his hand and the things he said, that head on his shoulder, them watching the sun set together… where were they supposed to go after that? He didn’t want Goldust to do all the work on building the relationship on his own.

“Alright, first, how long has this been going on, anyway?” Shawn asked.

“I... I suppose it has been two months, at most.” Undertaker didn’t really know when that whole thing started for sure. It was all very blurry.

“Well, two months is good. I mean, it’s longer than any relationship of mine ever lasted.” Shawn chuckled lightly, hands slipping to the edge of the bed. “… If you don’t mind me asking, who have you been seeing anyway?” Because he assumed he could gauge things better if he knew just whom Undertaker was dealing with. If the deadman was even seeing someone he heard of that is.

Undertaker swallowed dryly, thinking for a moment. Should he tell that to Shawn? Sure they had little to nothing against each other, but could he even begin to trust someone like him? After all, Shawn wasn't known for his 'loyal' nature.

“Will it stay between us?” Undertaker asked, finally looking up at Shawn's face, eyes narrow and his expression bordering the threatening.

“A-absolutely.” Shawn stuttered out. He could be a well known backstabber, but he was wise enough to know backstabbing Undertaker would be a very poor decision. And besides, he got nothing to gain from gossiping around about relationships.

“... It is Goldust. I have been seeing him.” Undertaker spilled out, his facial expression softening. He wasn't looking at the floor again but he was definitely avoiding looking at Shawn's face directly.

Shawn's eyes went wide again.

“Wait... you and... You and that guy, you two are having a fling?” Shawn's lips curved on a weird smile. If it was already hard to believe Undertaker, of all people, was in a relationship, it was even harder to buy it that said relationship was with Goldust. “Look, I didn't know were the joking type.”

“It is not a joke. I am serious. And... it is not a fling.” Undertaker could swear the palms of his hands were getting sweaty.

“Well you... do sound very serious about it, wow...” Shawn said, still a little shocked by the whole thing. Not even in a million years he thought something like that would happen, but considering Undertaker wasn't exactly famous for his 'joking' nature, it was safe to assume that was true, as unlikely as it sounded.

“Isn't he... you know... Do the two of you even have anything in common?” Sure they were both very weird, but they were weird in very different ways. Shawn couldn't help but wonder how they were even remotely compatible.

“We never talked much about that.” Undertaker admitted. Now that Shawn mentioned it he never stopped to think about it.

“I see... but do you at least feel alright when you are with him, I mean, you must feel something, right?” Because honestly Shawn didn't even know if Undertaker was able to feel like a normal human being.

“That is the thing. I... I can not tell **what** I feel when I am in his company, but the fact he makes me feel something to begin with is very odd. This is the first time something like this ever happened to me.” Undertaker found it was somewhat easy to talk to Shawn about those things, because they literally had nothing to do with each other, so it was more or less like talking to a total stranger.

Shawn thought he probably shouldn't find it endearing to see Undertaker saying those things, but there was something definitely a little charming about the whole situation. Maybe Undertaker was a little more human than Shawn gave him credit.

“What have you guys done so far? Did you like, went out together, kissed a little, maybe?” Because given Goldust's background, Shawn concluded a lot of stuff had happened already.

“I... In fact we... We are yet to...” Undertaker could almost literally feel the words getting stuck in his throat.

“... Wait, you didn't even kiss yet? In two months?!” Shawn sounded almost outraged, and quite surprised, not only because there was a clear lack of the most basic display of affection in their relationship, but because he didn't expect Goldust to not jump at Undertaker on the first opportunity. Was he sure he wasn't dreaming?

“No... I just... there was never any mention of it.” And most likely, unless Goldust gave the first step into that, Undertaker doubted he would be the one to do so.

“Oh my God, alright, you asked what you should do next? There you have it. You better hurry the fuck up and kiss already.” Shawn gesticulated like mad as he spoke. “I mean, damn, he must be super into you to wait this long for something so simple.”

“Wh-Why are you saying this?” Undertaker asked, eyes a little wide as he finally looked at Shawn again.

“You've seen how he acts, don't you? I mean, I'm no saint but that guy is something else let me tell you. I mean, I imagine he did try to kiss you and you said no but st-”

“Actually he... never tried.” Undertaker said before he could even stop himself.

“... Alright, I obviously had one too many shots of vodka yesterday and this is some wacko alcohol-induced dream I'm having.” That was going a little too far, at least in Shawn's opinion. First Undertaker has feelings, now Goldust suddenly respects people's boundaries... What the hell was even happening?

“I assure you this is no dream.” Undertaker crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Goldust is... he is a complicated individual, but he has been mostly respectful towards me.” At least on that aspect he had no complaints. Aside from their very first meeting face to face, where Goldust tested his limits a little too much, he was never forceful, at least not physically. He was very persistent about invitations though.

“... That's... that's actually a good thing. I mean, it's like I said: if he's going through that effort he probably cares. You can only change your own personality so much when you are with someone you have little interest in.” That was the main reason why Shawn's relationships lasted so briefly. “But you still need to hurry up and stop being a prude, you know?”

“I am not being prude.” Undertaker glared at Shawn again.

“Fine, but still you can't hold a relationship on hand holding alone, this is the nineties not the fifties.” Shawn rolled his eyes. Not only Undertaker dressed as if he was stuck in a past decade, he also acted the part it seemed. “But don't just go and tell him you want to kiss or something lame and boring like that. The guy is actually making an effort and you should too.”

“... And what do you suggest?” Undertaker chose to ignore the decade comment. He was fully aware of what time they were living in, thank you very much.

“Take him somewhere nice, yeah? Somewhere you guys can be alone or something. And like, talk to him, make an effort to show that you are actually interested, do you ever do that?” Shawn was sure Undertaker acted rather cold towards Goldust, as he did with everyone else.

“I find it hard to express most feelings. It does not come naturally to me.” Undertaker explained, more or less sinking on the chair he was sitting.

“Look, sometimes you just gotta talk and not think too hard before doing it. If you take too much time thinking you end up never saying anything.” Shawn leaned forward, resting his arms on his lap. “So just talk to him about whatever. He'll probably be happy about not having to do all the leg work.”

Undertaker nodded. Goldust was indeed the one who was always doing or starting things, while he remained passive about everything the entire time. It was probably time to be a little more proactive.

“I will try to do as you said. Your help was highly appreciated.” Undertaker said, straightening himself up on the chair.

“Ugh... OK, before you go, seriously? Don't talk to him all stiff like that, alright? This is like, the least attractive thing on Earth.” Shawn was trying very hard not to be rude, but Undertaker's speech pattern was less than charming.

“This... this is just how I speak regularly.” Undertaker said, getting up and grabbing his hat.

“I know, but like I said: make a goddamn effort. I'm saying that for your own sake, so he doesn't lose interest in you.” Shawn was assuming Undertaker didn't want Goldust to lose interest, but he couldn't tell for sure, as the deadman wasn't exactly super clear about his feelings. In fact, Shawn was pretty sure Undertaker wasn't even understanding what was going on inside his head, which was actually amusing. And a little sad.

“App... Thank you.” Undertaker said as he put his hat back on. “I will make an effort.” He walked up to the door in silence, opened it and quickly left the hotel room, leaving a very confused and curious Shawn behind.

A Shawn that was quite sure he needed an entire case of beer bottles just to start assimilating his new found knowledge.

 


	12. The Very First of Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter comes, and with it, a new milestone on these dorks' relationship.
> 
> Hope you are ready for this super long chapter with literally all the fluff!

The following week, Undertaker kept Shawn's words in mind the entire time.

_Make an effort_ , he kept repeating inside his head, as he tried to fight his constant awkwardness when he was around Goldust, while at the same time trying to find a window of opportunity to bring up the subject of them going out together, but that was very hard to do. Where would he even take Goldust? And if it was already this hard already to ask the other man to go out with him, attempting to kiss him would be three times harder.

Honestly, if he didn't know he was going to regret it, he would call the whole thing off and pretend nothing ever happened. But... he couldn't. By the end of that week, he realized he was growing more comfortable and used to the attention and the displays of affection. Too used to hands holding on to his gently, to bright eyes staring right into his, hugs that lingered a little longer than usual, fingers running through his hair, warm breathing against his neck, the soft smell of perfume when they were so close to each other...

Undertaker knew he was helplessly captivated by all those things, and it was both complicated and... exciting, maybe? Was that the word he was even looking for? It was always very hard to define just what he was feeling when it came to their relationship.

That sudden burst of affection which came from Goldust didn't just come by impulse though. He was still very insulted by what Bearer told him when they were having their less than pleasant conversation, and because of that he felt he needed to go right ahead and prove that, yes, he was seriously committed, more than he ever was in his entire life.

Because of that, most of his displays were when he knew or at least sensed Bearer was nearby to see it – but he was still discreet enough to keep those away from the prying eyes of other wrestlers, as they didn't need to know anything about their personal affairs. If that was how Paul wanted to play, then so be it. He would shower Undertaker with so much attention and care it would make him sick.

And, somehow, Goldust's more 'aggressive' tactic went better than expected, as he clearly noticed that Undertaker's attitude was shifting slightly. He seemed a little more open to having his personal space encroached, and way more receptive to praise. His reactions and speech were still very stilted, but it was clear he was trying not to seem so stiff all the time, and Goldust appreciated it a lot.

Still, as strange as it seemed, he could swear Undertaker was trying to tell him something but just wouldn't. And for the life of him Goldust couldn't tell what it was. After all, it was still hard for him to read the deadman.

Goldust just came to know what it was that was bothering Undertaker later, on the upcoming week, when the other man nervously grabbed his hands and asked if he wanted to go for a motorcycle ride with him. The entire time, Undertaker avoided eye contact completely, and he was sure his face was embarrassingly tinted red again, and hoped Goldust wouldn't point it out. He hated when he did that.

“A bike ride? With you? Heh... I thought you were never going to invite me to one.” Goldust said, smiling. He had seen Undertaker sometimes leave the arenas on his bike, and not only he looked ridiculously attractive when doing that, Goldust always wondered how it felt to go on one. The closest he ever got to it was filming this one scene from a movie, and it wasn't even fun, as eighty percent of the ride was made with a stuntman.

“You know, this is the first time you asked me to do anything with you. I thought I was going to be the one to start things off forever.” In a way, Goldust was relieved, because in the back of his mind he was honestly thinking Undertaker was just accepting his invitations to be polite, and not because he actively wanted to spend time with him.

“I was unsure of how you would react.” Even though Undertaker knew Goldust's answer would be positive, there was this tiny bit of him that was a little scared of being turned down, which was strange. He couldn't recall ever fearing rejection.

“You are very, very silly, do you know that?” Goldust chuckled.

“I have been acting rather strangely as of late, I will not deny it.” Undertaker let go of Goldust's hands, noticing he was gripping on to them rather strongly. “I hope you do not object to meeting me tonight?”

“I would never object to meeting you, no matter the time of the day.” Goldust said, winking at Undertaker the moment he noticed the deadman finally looked at his face again. “Are you going to take me anywhere special on this ride? Or are we just going to enjoy the wind in our hair?”

“I... There was a place...” Undertaker could have done it without Goldust winking at him like that, good God. The whole thing was already nerve-racking enough on it's own, he didn't need any help with it.

“I can't wait to see it then.” Goldust kept on smiling, heart fluttering ever so slightly. It always got him excited to do something out of the ordinary with Undertaker, and he was definitely looking forward to their meeting later that day. Could he even classify it as a date? Well, even if Undertaker didn't see it that way, he would do so anyway. “Sadly, I need to leave you for now. I got some things I need to attend to.” There was this one producer who kept calling him on the phone and nagging at him about this one part he didn't want to play at all, and he was trying his best to get out of the guy's radar. “Oh, and do we meet at the hotel? And at what time?”

“The hotel sounds good.” It was discreet enough. “Anh... at ten?” Undertaker honestly had no idea what was an adequate time to meet someone at night.

“Alright, I'll be ready then. See you!” Goldust blew Undertaker a kiss and waved at him before walking off to who knows where, and the deadman just stood there for a good while, not quite believing he mustered up the courage to ask Goldust out.

At exactly ten o'clock, Undertaker was parking his bike in front of the hotel. He looked around the sidewalk, but there was no sign of Goldust anywhere – and he would be rather easy to spot, given how flashy he dressed all the time. For a moment he was worried Goldust wouldn't show up, but then shook his head. Just because he wasn't there at the exact second the clock hit ten that didn't mean he wasn't going to show up.

The next five minutes or so were a bit of a torture though, with Undertaker watching the front door of the hotel very intently, hands gripping on the bike's handle. That wait was giving him far too much time to think over about what he was doing and if more time passed he would probably start to regret the decision.

Luckily, Goldust finally showed up, wearing golden colored pants and a white shirt that... well, Undertaker didn't want to say it was gaudy but it kind of was. Not that he was one to judge others on how they dressed, given he almost never changed his outfit, no matter the occasion.

“Sorry, did I keep you waiting too long? I was trying to get my make up just right, and it took a little longer than I thought.” Goldust apologized as he approached the other. Sure, being fashionably late was cute and all, but he didn't exactly plan on doing that this time around. He just wanted to look his best to go out with Undertaker, and for some reason that proved harder than expected. Suddenly, everything in his wardrobe was trash and he had to redo his make up more than once. He couldn't remember when was the last time he was this worried about how he looked.

“No, I did not wait too long.” Which was true, but those few minutes felt like an eternity for Undertaker.

“Ah, that's good! Hmm... Do I just hop on the back?” Goldust asked, taking a look over the bike. He didn't want to just do something without Undertaker's permission.

“Yes, that is pretty much it.” Undertaker watched Goldust almost clumsily get on the bike, which was a little amusing. For someone who was so skilled in the ring he sure was less than graceful at something so simple.

“Heh... this is the first time I'm doing this. It's kind of strange, in a good way.” Goldust commented.

“You might want to hold on to something.” Undertaker said. He didn't want Goldust falling off or anything similar.

“Oh, alright.” Goldust wrapped both arms around Undertaker's waist without hesitation. “Like this?”

“Y-Yes, like that...” Undertaker gripped on the handlebars even harder. How was he supposed to pay attention to riding the bike with Goldust's chest pressed against his back, to the point he could feel the other man's heart beating?

Undertaker moved a bit and tried to shift all his focus into riding his motorcycle. He could do this. Well, more like he had to. He couldn't just bail out now, right?

Soon enough they were zooming by the streets, with Goldust occasionally holding on to Undertaker a little tighter when they took a sharper turn. And sometimes he did it just because. Undertaker was cold, yes, but there was something inherently nice about having his arms wrapped around his large frame. Also there was the soft smell of wet earth, wood and flowers that came from Undertaker, which Goldust was growing to love, and he honestly didn't expect anything else from the deadman but such natural scents.

The bike ride was somewhat long. At some point they left the city and began to go uphill, driving down a narrow highway. Goldust could only guess where Undertaker was taking him. He assumed it was somewhere dark and grim, given the deadman's preference for the macabre. Although, even if Undertaker was taking him to some cemetery or whatever, he wouldn't mind. What mattered was that they would be there together, which was much more than Goldust ever expected to get from that relationship.

Then, Undertaker took a turn on a small, dirt road surrounded by trees, and they rode for a few more minutes until he finally stopped at a clearing, parking the bike next to one of the trees.

Goldust hopped out of the bike almost a little too excitedly once they came to a full stop, taking a look around. The place itself was very simple looking, with a few bushes here and there, some patches of grass… The real attraction though was the view. From where they were, it was quite easy to see almost the entire city and their small bright lights, not to mention the sky that was sprinkled with stars, a full moon right above them.

“Ah, it's so gorgeous!” Goldust eyes were sparkling as they widened. How did Undertaker even know there was a place like that nearby?

“I… I am glad you think so. I did not know how the place looked so I was a little worried…” Undertaker said as he got off the bike as well, walking to stand by Goldust's side, but not too close to him. He had only overheard about that place, and wasn't quite sure what it looked like. He was relieved it wasn't all that bad.

“The place itself is a little bland, but look at this view! It's amazing!” Goldust sounded very excited.

“I thought you would enjoy that aspect. You seem to like views.” Undertaker did his best to try and keep the conversation going.

“Well, I certainly do. So you brought me here to appreciate this nice view with you?” Goldust asked. He had to admit that was pretty romantic, and unexpected coming from the deadman.

“Yes…” Undertaker chewed on his bottom lip a little, swallowing dryly.

“That's very sweet of you, you know that, right?” Goldust smiled widely, before sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed, patting the grass right by his side. “Well, come sit with me then.”

Undertaker nodded nervously and sat down as well, one of his arms hugging his legs as he pressed his knees against his chest. He was quite on the edge.

“You need to stop being so nervous around me. Or at least you should sit more relaxed.” Goldust shifted his gaze from the view to Undertaker, smiling warmly at him. “It's so strange to think someone as pretty as you never had any relationship of any kind.”

“… I am a complicated person.” Undertaker sighed, letting go of his legs while attempting to relax. “I do not relate with others well.”

“Heh… that’s easy to tell.” Goldust said, paying attention to the view once more. The blinking lights in the distance were almost hypnotizing in a very soothing manner. “I don't find you complicated though.”

Undertaker darted a glance to Goldust, gripping the grass under him lightly. He was thinking back to what Shawn told him, about taking Goldust to a nice place and kissing him. He was done with step one but… step two was going to be a little trickier than that. It would help a great deal if Goldust wasn’t so intimidating. And so oddly good looking under the pale moonlight.

“Thank you…” Undertaker shifted his gaze to the city line. “You are not as bizarre as I thought you were.”

Goldust chuckled, “Why thank you.” He spoke as he stretched his arms. “I guess it's only a matter of getting to know me, hm?”

“Yes…” Undertaker swallowed dryly. He was quite nervous. What if that wasn't what Goldust had in mind for their first kiss? What if he messed up? Did he even know how to kiss proper?

All the while Goldust sat there and wondered why Undertaker took him there. It was a nice, romantic gesture, but that was very uncharacteristic of the deadman. He didn't seem to be the type of person who cared about such things.

Did Undertaker only do it because he thought he would like it? If that was the case then Goldust was more than flattered. Him going through all this trouble just to make him happy… Maybe deep inside Undertaker had a truly sweet side to him.

Tilting his head up to look at the sky, Goldust gazed at the stars for a moment before speaking up.

“The sky is very starry around here, don't you think?”

Undertaker looked at Goldust briefly before looking up as well. “Yes… You are right.”

“Have you ever stargazed with someone before?” Goldust asked.

“No. I never did. Not like this at least.” Undertaker scratched his arm, then noticed Goldust moved at his side to lie down on the grass, a hand behind his head.

“What are you waiting for then? Let's watch them together. Although, if you want to look at a star I think you could just look at me!” Goldust let out a small laugh, winking at Undertaker.

Undertaker laid down by Goldust's side a little hesitantly, one hand resting on his side while he placed the other over his chest. He also made sure to keep some distance between them. He wanted to be a little closer and yet, it was so hard.

There was a long silence between them, with Undertaker trying to find the right moment – and the guts – to kiss the other man, and Goldust wondering if the deadman was expecting him to do anything to make that makeshift date a little more remarkable.

Goldust's gaze dropped from the sky to Undertaker, and he saw his hand lying around next to his body. He beamed as he gently moved his hand to place it on top of Undertaker’s, and he could visibly feel the other man stiffen a bit, as if that was the last thing he expected to happen.

Slowly though, Undertaker seemed to relax, his brain focusing on the weight of that hand on top of his.

“This is very nice.” Goldust said very quietly, voice soft. He never did anything quite like that. Lying on the grass, holding someone's hand and watching the stars… It felt like something he should have done years ago, when he was considerably younger.

Goldust felt Undertaker's hand move under his, and for a moment he thought the deadman was going to pull it away, which he would understand given Undertaker's personality. Although, he was more than pleasantly surprised when he realized the other just moved his hand so they could link fingers.

“Yes... Yes it is.” Undertaker was still very nervous, and yet he felt like he was enjoying himself, in his own strange way. There was this feeling at the bottom of his stomach the wouldn't go away, yes, but... that didn't bother him as much as it used to. He actually began finding the feeling rather warming, both figuratively and literally.

Taking the cue of their intertwining fingers, Goldust scooted over a little closer to Undertaker, but still kept some distance from the other man. He needed to take one step at a time, or at least he tried to keep telling himself that.

Another long silence took place, as they laid there, staring at the sky. Even though he was as quiet as always, Undertaker's mind was racing as his brain fired thought after thought, all of them very conflicting. Should he go for it or not? He honestly couldn't make up his mind.

Suddenly, Goldust sat up, and Undertaker looked at him, blinking a few times, wondering if something was wrong.

“... Undertaker?” Goldust asked, holding the deadman's hand a little tighter.

“Hm? Yes?” Undertaker found it strange Goldust was the one gripping on his hand, and not the opposite.

“I'm very happy you brought me here.” Goldust said, before moving to look at Undertaker's face. “I just feel so dumb admitting that.” He chuckled lightly, letting go of the other man's hand for a moment before moving to touch his wrist, then his arm, then moved a little closer to Undertaker, partially hovering above the other man, looking down at him. “God, I'm looking at you and the only think I want to do is to kiss you.” He could feel his heart racing ever so slightly, and he thought that was very ridiculous. Sure Undertaker was incredibly beautiful but... why was he even remotely nervous around him?

Undertaker swallowed dryly for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He wanted to reply immediately. Tell Goldust he wanted to be kissed. And yet looking up at Goldust's smiling face, looking down at him and framed by long, pale hair, made that a lot harder than it should.

“You can...” Was all Undertaker was able to mutter, and he immediately got a very surprised look from Goldust.

“Are... you sure?” Goldust was a little skeptical. After all, he couldn't tell if Undertaker was actually wanting that or if he was just so nervous he was just saying the first thing which came to his mind.

“Yes... and no.” Actually Undertaker wasn't sure of anything at that particular moment. He couldn't seem to get his brain to agree on that.

“What if I... do it like this...” Goldust leaned closer, until he was partially lying on top of Undertaker's chest and his lips were softly brushing against the deadman's.

Undertaker felt like his body was trying to bury itself on the ground beneath him, while at the same time the feeling at the pit of his stomach seemed to spread all over his body. It was all very conflicting and strange, and he buried his fingers on the grass to the point of pulling the blades by their roots.

Then, the more Goldust pressed his lips upon his, the more Undertaker seemed to relax, and the less his thoughts felt all scattered and confused. That... he liked that. He liked the softness and the warmth, the soft breathing against his skin, that hand caressing his forearm... All those things were very pleasant.

Goldust backed away after a couple seconds, smiling softly at Undertaker. Kissing those cold lips was a little unusual, but that only added even more novelty to the whole thing.

“Are you sure now?” Goldust asked again, moving so he could place himself better. By straddling Undertaker's lower torso.

Goldust repositioning himself like that caught Undertaker a little off guard and he needed a second or two to regroup so he could answer proper. Although... that wasn't the first time they were in that situation, right? A couple months ago, when they were face to face for the first time, didn't Goldust did exactly that? But this time around, there was no ring, no confrontation, no bright lights, no audience. It was just the two of them, under the moon, in a grassy patch...

Without a doubt, that was an interesting turn of events Undertaker would never see coming, not even in a million years.

“I am.” Undertaker finally said, and soon enough black painted lips were upon his again, and this time there was a lot more assertiveness from Goldust.

Goldust still did his best to act as soft as he could, but he couldn't keep telling himself he wasn't anxiously waiting for an opportunity to kiss Undertaker's lips. In his opinion, they took far too long to do that, but at the same time it was just that more exciting to do it, knowing he was able to charm the deadman enough so he would open up to that level of affection. It was like he had finally attained some prize others could only dream of getting.

He pressed onto the kiss a little harder, then parted his lips so he could nibble on Undertaker's bottom lip, while one of his hands moved to run through that dark, long hair.

In an almost unconscious motion, Undertaker parted his lips when they were nibbled. Goldust's lips were almost unbearably hot against his ice cold skin and when he felt the tip of a tongue flicking between his lips, he awkwardly tried to return the gesture, one of his arms wrapping around Goldust's waist.

Undertaker heard a light chuckle before he felt Goldust's tongue slide between his lips. He squirmed a little under the other man's weight, pulling him a little closer, as if that was possible, and nervously tried to copy Goldust's actions, his own tongue moving about without any real rhyme nor reason.

Goldust was absolutely charmed by that. Undertaker was just so insecure, yet he could see he was trying, and for some reason that was the most endearing thing he ever experienced. All the past kisses he had with people who proudly claimed they were the best at it? None of it even came close to how he was feeling at that very moment, with Undertaker shyly trying to kiss him back, but not sure how to do it. And when Goldust lightly sucked on the deadman's tongue and heard him let out an hesitant groan, it just felt so good. Made his heart beat so much faster and, if it wasn't for his make up, it would be clear to see his face was certainly tinted red all over.

At some point Goldust had to come up for air, and broke away from the kiss for a moment, smiling contently against Undertaker's mouth.

“How did you like it?” Goldust asked, placing a row of small kisses over Undertaker's jawline.

“It was... good...” Undertaker leaned into Goldust's hand, which was petting his hair. He felt warm all over, in a way he never felt before, even when he was still alive, and his nervousness was rather quickly being replaced by something else he wasn't even sure what was, but it definitely made him want to kiss Goldust again. And again.

“Just good? I think I need to try again then.” Goldust's attention went back to Undertaker's lips, and he kissed the other man with a little more fervor than before, and was very happy when Undertaker seemed to try and reciprocate the same manner. He was sloppy, yes, but damn if that didn't make Goldust feel even hotter.

There was another muffle groan from Undertaker when Goldust deliberately sucked on his tongue again, a little longer and harder than before, before he pulled away from the kiss again.

“Is it still just good?” Goldust asked, a little out of breath.

“It is... it is wonderful.” Undertaker said, and he could literally feel Goldust's smile widen.

“That's very, very nice to hear.” Goldust purred, placing a few more kisses to Undertaker's jaw before his lips moved to Undertaker's neck.

Undertaker was going to say something, but the breathy kisses against his warming skin made him forget about whatever he was going to say completely, and also made him tilt his head back almost instinctively. And when he felt teeth grazing against his Adam's apple, he breathed out a swear, his whole body squirming again.

Goldust kept kissing and softly biting Undertaker's neck, pressing his body against the deadman's as much as possible. Did Undertaker even have any idea of how hot and attractive he was? Specially when he let out short, broken moans and breathed out half words like that? Goldust suspected he didn't, which was a shame.

In a way, Undertaker thought he shouldn't be letting things go beyond kisses, but... the attention he was getting all over his neck was so good, and Goldust was acting so softly everything just **felt** right. It certainly didn't feel wrong, that much he could say.

Getting carried away, Goldust used his free hand to undo the first button on Undertaker's shirt, and as he moved on to the next his wrist was grabbed and he heard Undertaker let out an exasperated 'wait'.

He backed away a little, looking at Undertaker's face, at his parted lips, flushed cheeks and almost glazed over eyes. That sight didn't make Goldust want to undress Undertaker any less, but he certainly wasn't going to force anything.

“I... was going too far, wasn't I?” Goldust asked, his own head spinning a bit. He realized he was falling back into his regular, impulsive behavior, but that wasn't going to go fly with Undertaker.

“I just... I don't believe I am... It is no-” Two fingers were placed on Undertaker's lips and he stopped talking almost immediately.

“You don't need to justify yourself to me. If you aren't ready then you aren't ready. I'm not going to say I would _love_ having you right here, right now, because you are just so stunning...” Goldust trailed off, his hand sliding down to to the side of Undertaker's neck to caress it. “But I would never dare to corrupt something as beautiful as you. That would be an insult to everything I stand for.”

Undertaker was certainly not prepared for that level of intimacy just yet. One thing was to have his neck kissed, but another was to have his clothes taken off and who knows what else from there. Well, not that he didn't know what would happen after that, he wasn't so naïve, but he couldn't really tell what Goldust wanted to do, exactly, and given the other man's background, the options were rather countless. But Undertaker tried not to think too hard about those. At least not at the moment.

He was glad he didn't let himself get even more caught up in the moment though. Everything up to that point made him feel like he was in the clouds, but the moment Goldust's hand was on his chest it was like he was dragged back to Earth instantly. If he kept on feeling all dazed, maybe he would end up regretting everything just a few moments later.

“I'm glad I could finally kiss you though, and that I got to taste some of that pale skin of yours...” Goldust brushed his lips against Undertaker's neck one last time, before dragging his tongue over its length. He began to move away from Undertaker, but a hand was placed on the back of his head and he was pulled in for another kiss.

Awkwardly, Undertaker tried to take the initiative. It was bad enough he didn't take the first step on the first kiss, because that was exactly why he brought Goldust there in the first place, but to not even try to start something at any point was even worse. He wanted to at least compensate for passiveness.

And as awkward and sloppy and inexperienced as Undertaker was, Goldust was loving every second of their kisses. There was something so inherently genuine and pure about them. Something he rarely, if ever, tasted in his entire life. Undertaker wasn't trying to impress him. He was just being himself because he didn't know how to do anything else, and for Goldust that was... it was refreshing. It was Undertaker's sincere nature which attracted Goldust in the first place, and that trait of his kept enthralling him more and more as he got to know the deadman better.

The kiss wasn't exactly intense or long, but Goldust still had to pull away to grab some air, because he was a little breathless by being with Undertaker alone.

“I am glad you understand...” Undertaker said, his thoughts finally unscrambled enough for him to be able to string a sentence together.

“Still silly...” Goldust smiled, giving Undertaker's lips a parting peck before he moved to lie by Undertaker's side rather than on top of him. He knew Undertaker was strong, but he wasn't exactly 'lightweight'.

They spent another few minutes of silence just appreciating the stars – and each other's company. Goldust was more than happy when, at some point, Undertaker grabbed his hand first, without any prompting.

“You know, we should head back. It's dangerous to stay in a deserted place like this late at night. At least for me.” Goldust said, but didn't really move to get up from the ground.

“I have seen you fight. You are more than capable of taking care of yourself.” Undertaker replied almost immediately.

“... Was that a compliment?” Goldust asked. He could never tell those things when it came to the deadman.

Undertaker stayed in silence, not confirming nor denying anything.

“I know how to fight in a ring. I don't know how to do street fighting. I'm not some ruffian.” Goldust said as he sat up. “And besides I want to ride on your bike again.”

“Very well then.” Undertaker sat up as well, but before he could stand up, Goldust held his wrist and he stopped, looking at the other man with an inquiring look.

“Did you enjoy spending time with me?” Goldust asked, smiling.

“Yes. I did.” Undertaker said, probably sounding colder than he would like to.

“Then you should smile at me, you know? To show me you had a good time?” Goldust couldn't recall ever seeing Undertaker smile, ever. Neither before nor after they began seeing each other.

Undertaker blinked a few times. Well... Goldust was probably right. If he en joyed himself, why was he still as straight faced as always? Shouldn't he at least try to show it? _Make an effort_?

He let his lips curve into a small smile, and also did his best to soften his face as a whole, specially his eyes, which always seemed to be glaring no matter what.

Goldust blinked a few times, then covered his eyes in a very dramatic, exaggerated gesture. “Good grief, now I know why you don't smile, you just look so absolutely adorable, I can't even look!”

Undertaker's smile faltered almost immediately and his glare was also instantly back. “I would appreciate if you stopped referring to me as 'cute' or any similar words.”

“Well, it's not my fault you look like that sometimes...” Goldust crossed his arms in front of his chest. “But you look really nice when you smile. You should do it more often.”

“I will try.” Undertaker said, and Goldust's gaze snapped back to him, in clear surprise. But that soon dissolved into a laugh.

“We'll see, won't we?” Goldust finally moved to get on his feet, offering Undertaker a hand to help him up, which he more or less begrudgingly accepted.

The ride back to town was a lot less awkward, at least on Undertaker's end. He felt less stiff and nervous about Goldust's arms around him. He would even risk saying he felt a little comfortable having him that close, but maybe that was a bit of a stretch? He wasn't sure, but he certainly wasn't looking forward to dropping Goldust at his hotel anytime soon, which caused him to take some unnecessary turns here and there just to prolong their time together. He could only hope Goldust didn't notice.

But Goldust did. And on the first wrong turn, he thought Undertaker got lost, but when the third one happened, he realized he was doing it on purpose. Poor thing didn't even know how to be subtle. And it was the cutest thing he ever saw, even though he wouldn't say it out loud, because he didn't want to anger Undertaker again.

When they finally got to Goldust's destination, he got off the bike, smiling at Undertaker.

“I really liked going out with you. I guess now I owe you a date, don't I?” Goldust twirled a strand of his wig around his finger. “I'll find a nice place for us though, trust me!”

“You do not need to-” Undertaker honestly should have expected a hand was going to show up right in front of his face.

“Yes I do. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, yes?” Goldust gave Undertaker a last kiss on the cheek before he skipped to the hotel's front door and disappeared behind it.

Undertaker sighed, then drove to his own hotel.

When he finally got to the room, he carefully opened the door, and was very relieved when he found out Bearer was sound asleep on his bed already. Which gave him the perfect opportunity to just fall face first on his own bed, face buried on the pillow. Now everything was downing on him, and good grief, did he even do all that? Drove Goldust all the way to that overlook, stargazed with him, kissed him... Well, yes. That certainly happened. And his brain was still all scrambled, and would remain like that for a good chunk of the night.

The following morning, his head was more straightened up, but it didn't remain that way, because the moment Bearer finally woke up and looked at him, he seemed absolutely horrified, and began loudly inquiring him about the black lipstick marks all over his lips and the gold colored stains on his neck.

He certainly didn't account for Goldust's make up being all over him. He would definitely remember to clean up next time.

… Good God, he was already thinking about next time, and Bearer wasn't even done screaming at him.

 


	13. Fascination and Reckless Behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here's a new chapter!
> 
> It's a bit on the shorter side, juuuuust bordering the 4,000 words mark, but I had to make it short because if I were to add everything i want to happen after what goes on in this chapter, it would get far too long (believe me there's a lot of material for the next chapter), so, hang on to your seats!

“You’ve been smiling all morning. What’s up with that?” Marlena asked Goldust, looking over her newspaper. Not only he was smiling non stop, he was also spacing out a lot.

“Hm?” Goldust finally stopped looking out the window and his gaze fell on Marlena sitting on the other side of the table. For a moment, he almost forgot she was there. “My apologies my dear, we are having breakfast and I’m totally ignoring you, aren’t I?”

“Yes, and you didn’t answer my question. What’s with all the smiling?” She asked again, putting down the paper on her lap. “I’ll take a wild guess here and assume you are like this because of your undead ‘friend’.”

“Oh, darling, you don’t even know. He invited me out yesterday, you see.” Goldust had an almost dreamy tone as he spoke.

“He did? Well, isn’t that cute. Never thought he would have the guts to, considering how you describe him to me.” Marlena let out a soft laugh, taking a sip from her coffee.

“I was very surprised too! Although I’m pretty sure it took him almost an entire week to finally get the words out. You had to see his face when he asked, he was red all over!” Goldust opened a wider smile, drinking some of his tea. “He took me for a ride on his bike, and it was pretty fun. We also got to see the most beautiful view of the city together.”

“... Heh… you are sounding like a teenager, are you aware of that?” Marlena was always highly amused whenever Goldust started talking about Undertaker. It was like he became someone completely different.

“I admit all this sounds like something straight out of a cliché teenage romance movie, but…” Goldust sighed softly, resting his head on his hand and looking out the window again. “All this feels so new to me.”

Admittedly, Goldust never bothered with the finer aspects of dating. Things were always so rushed and straightforward in all his relationships he constantly neglected the small things, like holding hands, or just sitting beside someone, or even just exchanging loving looks. So, suddenly, being at an overlook watching the stars and kissing was something amazing and new.

And, ah, the kissing…

“We also finally kissed and… I can’t even begin to explain. My heart flutters just thinking about it.” Goldust let out another sigh, eyes closing softly. Undertaker was just… everything about him was just so beautiful and all his intimate actions were all so pure. How could a man like him even exist? And how was he even interested in him? Goldust thought he was one lucky son of a gun.

“It was that good?” Marlena chuckled. She never heard him talk about anyone in such a loving manner before.

“Really, I can’t explain! His lips are so cold and he’s just so adorably nervous and his skin tastes so good…” Goldust trailed off, but was distracted by Marlena laughing.

“Oh, I knew you didn’t just kiss him.” Marlena gave Goldust a smirk, and watched as he rolled his eyes.

“Well, you tell me what I was supposed to do when presented with a beautiful, willing man right in front of me!” Goldust moved his tongue about inside his mouth for a moment. “I couldn’t even get past his neck though, so don’t start having perverted thoughts.”

“Excuse me, I have perverted thoughts?” Marlena leaned forward a bit, chuckling. “You are the one grieving about not being able to go further with graveyard boy.”

“You know how much I hate waiting.” Goldust crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back on his chair. “If I didn’t know better I would risk saying he’s actually trying to torture me with all this stalling.”

But Goldust knew better. He knew Undertaker wasn’t just trying to build him up or something stupid like that. Taking things slow was clearly a necessity for him. It was as clear as day he was genuinely unsure of what to do or what things to say whenever they were together, and every time Goldust tried to speed up the process it ended up with them having this air of awkwardness around them, which Goldust hated.

And, like it or not, Goldust was also going through a learning process of his own. Learning how to actually wait for things, learning he needed to make a real deal effort for something. When he was a child his mother pretty much spoon fed him everything he wanted, without him having to lift a finger. He could even remember his father saying she was going to spoil him rotten if she kept doing that. And he was probably right.

When he came to Hollywood, things weren’t much different. Goldust always considered himself a very lucky person, but the way doors opened for him when he started his career was almost unbelievable., and he reached the top a lot faster than a lot of his peers, through a lot less effort.

And now, he finally reached a bump in the road. He finally found something he had to truly work for to achieve, and it was all very unnatural. As if having to go through the motions of a legit relationship wasn’t hard enough for him.

“I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who does that.” Marlena said, picking her newspaper up again.

“He isn’t. He’s… He acts all mean and intimidating in the ring, but deep inside he’s such a sweetheart…” Goldust took a bite from his toast, trailing off again.

“God, you are so in love with him it’s actually making me sick.” Marlena could hear Goldust chocking on his food from behind her newspaper.

“Would you cut with the love thing? Why is that every time I mention him you just assume I’m falling in love?” Goldust said, as he cleaned his lips with a napkin. “If I were to fall in love with everyone I find beautiful and charming I would be doomed.”

Why was it so hard for Marlena to understand his interest on Undertaker didn’t run that deep? He was very pleasing to the eyes, yes, and Goldust would love to kiss him over and over - not to mention doing other things - but that didn’t mean anything.

“Whatever you say…” Marlena replied, rolling her eyes. Goldust was honestly being ridiculous, but she wasn’t going to be the one to try and convince him on the contrary. He was too much of a hard head for her to waste her time with that.

Later that day, when Raw was already in full swing, Goldust sneaked around backstage - or at least, sneaked as much as someone dressed all in gold could - and found Undertaker walking about, seemingly preoccupied with something. Goldust had absolutely no reason to be there, but because Undertaker was going to have a match that night, he decided he should drop by.

“Something on your mind?” Goldust walked up to the deadman’s side, and watched as the taller man rubbed the back of his neck.

“Nothing.” Undertaker lied. Actually he didn’t have much on his mind up until Goldust came by. Then a big mess of thoughts entered his mind.

“What? You aren’t even thinking about yesterday night?” Goldust opened a somewhat devious smirk, still walking right by Undertaker’s side.

“Just… just a little.” Undertaker felt his palms get very sweaty inside his gloves as he fumbled with his fingers.

Undertaker suddenly had his wrist grabbed and before he knew it Goldust was dragging him inside a room, keeping the door ajar as they stood right behind it.

“Are you sure it’s just a little?” Goldust’s eyes were literally sparkling as he looked straight into Undertaker’s, letting go of Undertaker’s wrist and placing both his hands on his face. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” It was taking all of Goldust’s self-control not to kiss those cold lips right in front of him. It shouldn't even be allowed for someone to look that attractive.

In an almost thoughtless motion, Undertaker found himself placing his arms around Goldust’s waist, but didn’t quite pull him closer. “Maybe it was slightly more than a little.”

Goldust ran the tip of his thumb over Undertaker's lips, leaning closer to the deadman. “That's a bit better.” Goldust purred, lips almost brushing against Undertaker's.

“Wait… the lipstick…” Undertaker pointed out before Goldust could get closer. It was almost painful to say that when he felt warm breath against his lips, but he didn't want to raise any flags. And was sure Goldust didn't want that either.

“Oh yes, you can't just walk around with your lips all stained black, can you?” Goldust chucked, before sliding his hands down to Undertaker's neck to caress it. He wanted to kiss Undertaker real badly, leave dark marks all over his lips just to show everyone in those locker rooms the deadman was his now, but he didn't want to give Undertaker a hard time. It was also too early to stake a claim. “I'm sure you'll be more available once you are done with your match tonight, right?”

Undertaker nodded, brushing the tips of his fingers against Goldust's back, watching as he leaned against the gesture.

“Hmm… see you in a bit then… Just come back to this room, will you?” Goldust slid his hands down to Undertaker's chest, resting them there for a moment before pushing away from the deadman. He was quickly out the door, but not before blowing Undertaker a kiss.

Undertaker ran his fingers through his hair as soon as Goldust was gone, a hand on his waist. When did he become that pathetically affectionate? And why was he looking forward to the end of the night so badly?

Either way, he rubbed his hand over his neck, remembering how nice it felt to have Goldust's lips all over it, and that one last lick… He wouldn't mind getting a little more of that.

He shook his head, finally leaving the room he was dragged into. He had more pressing matters to attend to, like crushing his next opponent.

When Undertaker entered the ring later that night Goldust was watching his match back in his locker room, excitedly cheering for the deadman. In all honesty, he could watch Undertaker wrestle until the end of time and never, ever get bored.

For a guy so big, he sure had a lot of grace in his movements, especially the way he jumped off the ring without fear, or dived to apply a clothesline to his opponents. It was seriously some poetry in motion, and Goldust could swear it felt like his movements happened in slow motion every single time. Also the way he overpowered everyone in his path was very appealing. Undertaker was such a dominant force inside the ring it was even more surprising for Goldust to find out he wasn’t quite like that when it came to more personal matters.

And not only was his attitude in the ring a sight to behold. His looks were, as always, the thing Goldust liked to focus the most. From the way his long, raven hair flowed every time he moved, falling down his broad shoulders, to his beautifully tattooed arms, all the way down to the skin tight pants which covered his thick thighs…

Goldust seemed to snap out of it suddenly, then let out a small laugh to himself. He was sure getting awfully sidetracked while watching Undertaker’s match, that was for sure. But he found it was very hard to stop once he caught himself thinking about the deadman, especially with him moving about like that, with his muscles  stretching and tensing as he delivered blow after blow to his opponent.

Undertaker was so painfully gorgeous, even the way he adjusted his gloves was beautiful, as if that was even possible.

When the match was finally over, with Undertaker coming out of it as the winner, Goldust pretty much jumped from his seat, pacing around his locker room a little too excitedly. He would give the deadman a few minutes to regroup, let Bearer talk his ear off about whatever... And besides he didn't want to seem to desperate, by jumping at him the moment he stepped out of the ring. He needed to show a little more restraint than that.

Although his restraint lasted about ten minutes, which was when he walked out his door and walked to the small, somewhat empty room from earlier. When he got there though, the place was as empty as ever. Clearly he didn't give the deadman enough time. He sighed, and when he spun on his heels to look back at the door, he came face to face with Undertaker, which made him do a double take.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” Goldust said, placing a hand on his chest, his heart beating slightly faster.

“It was not my intention to scare you.” Although, Undertaker realized that maybe standing ominously behind someone wasn't the best way to approach them.

“It's all right... Well, now that you are here, we can continue from where we left off, hm?” Goldust's demeanor shifted from startled to flirty in just a second, as he pushed the door to keep it ajar like before, pulling Undertaker by the collar of his shirt right after as he leaned against the wall. “And don't worry. I brought some tissue so you can remove any lipstick marks I leave on your lips... and any other place...” Goldust whispered as his hands dropped from Undertaker's collar to his waist.

“Appreciated...” Undertaker trailed off, hands moving to rest against the sides of Goldust's neck as he leaned forward to brush his lips against the other's. He felt his lower lip get nibbled and sighed softly, tongue flicking out before he pressed a kiss against those black lips right next to his.

Goldust allowed Undertaker to take things at his own pace, watching Undertaker's actions through narrowly parted eyelids, until he felt the deadman's cold tongue slide past his lips and his eyes came to a total close, focusing solely on how close Undertaker was to him, how his chest was pressed against his, and his gloved hands were caressing the skin of his neck.

Undertaker took in the warmth of Goldust's body, and it was just as nice as it was the night before. He could feel Goldust gripping his waist as he deepened the kiss, and heard him hum quietly into it, and it was like those hums shot straight down his spine and made his own body start to warm up.

When Goldust broke the kiss to come up for air for a moment, he whispered against Undertaker's lips, telling him how nice it was to have him there, how beautiful he was... He would have said a lot more, but Undertaker's lips were soon upon his again and he figured he could say the rest later. If he remembered to that is. Having Undertaker close to him did wonders to making him forget things.

The second kiss was soon broken, but this time by Undertaker, whose hands moved to the soft feathers on the collar of Goldust's robe, to give his lips enough room to dip down to Goldust's neck. He felt quite nice when the other kissed his neck, so he decided it would be nice to return the favor.

Goldust shuddered almost immediately when cold breath hit his hot skin, and his arms wrapped around Undertaker's waist to pull him closer, head tilting back to give him more space.

“Hmm... so nice~” Goldust purred, as Undertaker placed rows of kisses over his neck and his tongue tentatively flicked out to lick skin. All the while he scratched the deadman's back softly through the fabric of his shirt, getting an occasional groan in response, and each groan sent a shot straight to his groin. If he knew he could he would just rip those clothes right out of Undertaker's body and...

“Hey, Kev you h- Whoa, whoa, hmm... Sorry?” A voice came from the door, which caused both men to freeze right where they were, save for Goldust's gaze snapping to the door to see Shawn standing there, more or less averting his gaze.

“What... D-Don't you know how to knock?” Goldust scolded, looking back at Undertaker, who looked very mortified about the entire situation, with eyes wide and lips a little parted as he moved away from Goldust slowly.

“Hey man, not my fault you guys don't close the door!” Shawn shot back, gaze shifting to Undertaker. “So, you finally took things a step further I see.”

It was Goldust's turn to widen his eyes, still looking at the deadman. “Y-You told him??”

“I... I did not know how to behave towards you and was in need of help. He... was the logical choice?” Undertaker tried to explain the best way he could, considering how nervous he was.

“Oh, God, you might as well have told the entire locker room! Do you really think he's going to keep his mouth shut about it?” Goldust stammered off.

“Hey, I'm right here?!” Shawn said with a frown. “And I'm not going to gossip around about you two, I'm a little better than that! Besides, I'm not really one to talk about you guys making out behind people's back, because it's not like me and Kevin don't do that all the time.” He said, very nonchalantly.

“Oh... You... and Nash? Well now, I'm not gonna say I'm surprised.” Goldust looked back at Shawn, seemingly unfazed by his words, while Undertaker's eyes widened even more. He could have gone his entire life without that bit of info.

“Yeah, but I think we need to stop talking about this, because I think if we keep doing it we might kill off your undead boyfriend for good.” Shawn pointed at Undertaker, who just seemed to tense up even more at the mention of the word 'boyfriend', and could feel his face flushing almost immediately.

Goldust finally looked back at Undertaker, and it looked like he was about to explode from embarrassment and nervousness. “We-well, then we'll talk later. Now get out!”

“Sheesh, all right. Oh, and deadman? Congratulations on reaching first base. I was sure you had it in you.” Shawn said in a very playful tone before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

The moment the door closed, Goldust shifted all his attention back to Undertaker. “Dear, that's my fault. I... I should have known better than to do this with you here.” Goldust sighed, grabbing Undertaker's hands into his. They were lucky Shawn was the one who walked in on them, but it could have been anyone really. “I promise I'll be more careful from now on.”

Undertaker looked straight at Goldust's face, and for a few seconds, his words didn't register. He was still too shocked and embarrassed to do anything besides stand there and stare, but after a bit he was finally able to string a sentence together. “I also let myself go. I did not exactly stop you. We are both at fault.”

Goldust blinked at Undertaker a few times, then smiled softly at him. “Well, I guess that was enough excitement for the night though. Here...” He let go of Undertaker's hands and reached into the pocket of his robe for a small pack of tissues. “Your lips are all smeared. You also got a little gold in your nose. Want me to clean it up for you?” Considering there were no mirrors there, Undertaker would never be able to tell if he cleaned up proper or not.

“Sure.” Undertaker accepted the offer, and watched as Goldust pulled a tissue from the pack and rubbed it softly against his lips, removing all traces of lipstick from it. Soon enough his nose was also cleaned up, and Goldust was looking at him with a large smile.

“There, all set.” Goldust said, almost proudly, noticing Undertaker had relaxed considerably since Shawn left, but was still a little on edge. “I'll be taking my leave now, but be sure that I'll be more careful with our meeting next time, all right?” He reassured the deadman before blowing him a kiss and leaving the room.

Undertaker felt his fists clench and relax as he moved to lean against the wall, staring at the ceiling as he tried to calm himself down, a single thing still ringing inside his mind though.

 _Boyfriend_.

Goldust... Goldust never denied it when Shawn said it, right? Did it mean anything, or he just didn't pay attention to what Michaels said? If it was the later, no problem, but if it was the former... Boyfriend? Wasn't that too much? Were things really that serious between them?

Undertaker would have to ask. If he ever mustered the courage to do so that is.

 


	14. The Calm...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a nice, slow, fluff chapter that sets up the scenario for the next chapter + shows that things are, indeed, getting pretty serious between these two idiots.
> 
> Next chapter... oh boy, next chapter, you guys DON'T EVEN KNOW.

On the following days, true to his word, Goldust did his best to remain affectionate towards Undertaker, but did it in a discreet enough fashion so their privacy wouldn't get compromised again. A lot of their meetings happened quite ways from whatever arena they are fighting at, and sometimes Goldust was even able to convince Undertaker to come to his hotel room, which filled his stomach with butterflies.

And even though their meetings were tamer than Goldust would like them to be, he could feel Undertaker get more involved with every encounter. His moves got a little bolder, his voice more even when he spoke up, he reciprocated the affection more often, allowed Goldust's touches to go a little further every time… Nothing too scandalous though. Just hands lingering on Undertaker's waist a little longer, the first few buttons of his shirt getting unbuttoned, warm and bare hands sliding under his shirt and resting on his back.

With every small step forward in their relationship, the weird knot at the bottom of Undertaker’s stomach made itself present more and more often, and he found himself craving for Goldust's attention and affection. And the same could be said about Goldust, when it came to Undertaker's displays of affection.

Neither of them were expecting to feel so ensnared by each other, but there they were.

When Undertaker found himself in Goldust’s room again - and honestly he stopped counting how many times he ended up there after the fifth time or so - sharing dinner with him, by Goldust’s insistence, he was seriously wondering why he was considering that to be so important. Why he looked forward to spending time with the other, even when they sat down to eat and didn’t really speak for a good ten minutes. Which was happening right now.

“You are very quiet again. Taking your time to savor the food?” Goldust joked from across the small table they were sitting at. The perks of renting the best rooms at every hotel was the comfortable accommodations, and the fact he was provided with everything he needed. Even a table for a dinner for two.

“I will never understand why you keep asking me to share meals with you.” Undertaker replied, playing with a stray pea on his plate.

“I’ll admit it is only an excuse to spend more time with you.” Goldust said, smiling as he took a sip from his drink. “Besides, you are good company to eat with. I don’t need to pretend I am interested in what you are saying, neither do I need to try and make small talk out of nothing.” Everyone expected him to fill the dead air in conversations, and sometimes he just wanted to eat in peace. And Undertaker gave him just that.

“Pretend?” Undertaker looked up from his plate to Goldust, an eyebrow slightly raised.

“Ugh… Yes. Some people think they are way more interesting than they truly are, and that everything which comes out of their mouths deserve my full attention.” Goldust rolled his eyes, leaning back on his chair. “You though… You can hold my attention even when you are not saying anything. And when you do speak, I make sure to focus on every word.” He winked at Undertaker, and grinned when the other shifted his gaze back to his plate.

“... Appreciated.” Undertaker said, putting down his fork and knife. He didn’t feel like eating anymore.

“Done already? Did it taste good though?” Goldust asked before taking a few more bites from his chicken.

“Yes, it was quite good.” As pointless as eating was to him, Undertaker had to admit he was getting used to doing that. Mostly because Goldust always presented him with food that was hard to turn down. It always looked and smelled so nice…

“I hope you left some room for dessert though.” Goldust said, eyeing the still covered tray sitting on the small cart on the room.

Silence fell over the table again as Undertaker let Goldust finish his meal, which didn’t take long. before he knew it, Goldust was getting their plates to place them on the cart, and grabbed the lidded tray from it, placing it on the table in front of Undertaker before grabbing his chair to move it closer to the other.

“What… is that for?” Undertaker asked when Goldust sat down only inches away from him.

“For our dessert.” Goldust chuckled, taking the lid off the tray to reveal a single cup of chocolate mousse and a single spoon.

“... What is this?” Undertaker was even more puzzled now. Why did Goldust bother making all that scene if there was only one serving of dessert anyway?

“Well, looks like a mousse.” Goldust said with a smirk, picking up the spoon.

“I am aware of that. I was referring to the fact there is only o… one…” Undertaker began to trail off when a spoonful of the dessert was placed right in front of him lips. he blinked a few times, then felt that damned warm feeling take over his face when realization hit him. “Wha-what are you doing?”

“What? Can’t I feed you some sweet treat when I feel like to?” Goldust said with a pout, still holding the spoon next to Undertaker’s mouth.

“This… this is most ridiculous.” Undertaker crossed his arms, averting his gaze from the spoon.

“It’s not ridiculous. It’s romantic. Now open up, dear~” Goldust went back to smiling, almost touching the deadman’s lips with the tip of the spoon.

With a sigh, Undertaker begrudgingly parted his lips, allowing the spoon to go into his mouth. He felt absolutely stupid, letting Goldust feed him with after little to no convincing. He just… accepted it like it wasn’t one of the most embarrassing things he ever did.

“So, how does it taste?” Goldust asked with a wide smile, clearly eager to know Undertaker’s opinion.

“It’s good…” Undertaker replied, cheeks still slightly flushed as he tasted the mousse for a bit before swallowing it. Yes. He definitely felt like an idiot.

“Heh… I’m glad you liked it.” Goldust kept smiling at Undertaker, visibly very charmed by the other’s behavior. He got a large spoonful of dessert to himself and ate it up happily. “Ah, you are right, it is quite tasty.” He went quiet for a second, as if pondering about something, before speaking up again. “Certainly not as delectable as you, but is a close second.”

Undertaker felt his fists clench, face getting even warmer. “I already advised you against saying such stupid things.”

“It is the truth though. Your lips taste so nice…” Goldust moved his leg to brush his knee against Undertaker’s, grabbing another spoonful of dessert. “More?” He offered the deadman, and to his surprise he nodded, lips parting again.

They ate together like that for a while, until there were only a few scraps of chocolate still in the cup.

“Ah, it’s over already…” Goldust said, putting down the spoon and grabbing the cup, unceremoniously using his finger to get the last bits of chocolate from it, before placing his finger inside his mouth to lick it clean. He did that almost unconsciously, since it wasn’t exactly the first time he ever did that with a particularly nice tasting treat, but once he realized what he was doing, and Undertaker nervously gazing back and forth at him, he made a point of noisily slurping and sucking on his finger, amused by how the deadman’s face grew even redder.

He was just so positively charming.

After that display, he cleaned his finger with a napkin, smiling as warmly as he could at Undertaker.

“Say, would you… like to stay here a little longer? I mean, I know you always leave after we finish eating, but I’m going to be so awfully alone once you leave.” Goldust said. He was already dreading being there on that room alone because Marlena told him she would be away for the night discussing God knows what with some producers and other directors. And once she decided to start discussing that type of stuff with her peers, she simply did not stop until the break of dawn. So he knew he would be completely on his own for the rest of the night. and he wasn’t even close to feeling sleepy.

“I… I am unsure.” Undertaker stuttered out, still a little shaken up by Goldust’s little “scene” not even two minutes before.

“Please… I promise not to try anything funny. Just stay here with me. We can watch some TV. Just… stay, please?” Goldust said as he softly placed a hand on Undertaker’s thigh, already bracing himself for a “no” and a long night trying to distract himself with whatever was on the television.

Undertaker swallowed a little dryly, arms finally uncrossing. “I… Maybe I can stay here for a little while.”

“Ah, really?!” Goldust exclaimed, eyes lighting up a bit. “That’s great!” He impulsively wrapped both arms around Undertaker’s neck, lips brushing against the deadman’s. And before he knew it he was nibbling on those cold lips and slowly but surely kissing the other.

Goldust sighed happily inside the kiss when he felt Undertaker’s arm wrap around his waist. He pulled away from the kiss, but still kept his face close to the other man’s.

“C’mon, come sit on the bed with me…” Goldust muttered against Undertaker’s lips, unwrapping his arms from the other’s neck before getting up. “Don’t mind the stuff on the table. We can worry about it later.” He said as he walked to the bed, propping up some pillows and sitting on it, resting his back against the headboard, patting the area next to him with his hand.

A little nervously, Undertaker got up and walked up to the bed, taking off his shoes before sitting by Goldust’s side but not bothering putting any pillows behind his back. Meanwhile, Goldust reached for the controller on the bedside table, turning on the TV to go through the channels.

“I just hope there’s something decent on…” He said as he flipped through the channels, sometimes darting glances at Undertaker, who sat there, a little stiff like always, but the fact his arms weren’t crossed in front of his body showed he was at least slightly relaxed. Or as much as he could do.

After some channel surfing, Goldust finally found something.

“Oh, this movie is really nice. You are probably going to like it. It’s pretty old, but I think you’ll know how to appreciate it.” Goldust said, placing the controller back on the small table.

Undertaker nodded, and tried to do his best to pay attention to the movie. It was… indeed a little interesting. He wasn’t the type to watch TV much, so he really didn’t know much about movies and such. Although, he was quite sure getting advice from Goldust on the subject was wise. He worked on movies for a living, right? He probably knew a lot about that, and which ones were good or bad.

As the minutes passed, Undertaker found himself to be very invested in the movie’s plot. Something about evil children cursing an entire town. Yes… Goldust was right, that was indeed the type of thing he could appreciate greatly.

As for Goldust, he was barely paying attention to what was on the TV. He watched that thing a thousand times already. He was far more interested in looking at Undertaker, the eyes his eyes were somewhat glued to the screen, lips a little parted, as he seemed to be watching the movie with great curiosity of what was going to happen next.

“Undertaker?” Goldust asked, and actually felt a little bad for trying to get the deadman’s attention away from the movie.

“Hm? Yes?” Undertaker said, snapping his gaze away from the screen. For a moment he almost forgot Goldust was there with him.

“Why… why don’t you lay your head on my lap? I want to pet your hair a little.” Goldust said, smiling softly at Undertaker.

There was some hesitance from Undertaker as he considered Goldust’s words, but then he slowly shifted on the bed to find the best position for him to lie down, placing his head on Goldust’s thighs, facing the TV.

“That’s nice…” Goldust sighed softly, fingers running through long, dark locks of hair. Undertaker was just so beautiful. Was he even aware of that?

The quiet sounds from the TV and the way those fingers ran through his hair softly made Undertaker relax in a way he never really did before. He felt his shoulders drop some, his expression soften, as he almost unconsciously snuggled up against Goldust a little. He felt… good? Yes. That was pretty much how he was feeling alright. But why Goldust, of all people, made him feel like that, it was still quite the mystery to him.

Quite some time passed, and it was almost the end of the movie when Undertaker heard Goldust yawn above him, and he finally snapped away from it, turning on the other’s lap to look up at him.

“I… may have overstayed my welcome.” Undertaker said, then felt a hand caressing the side of his face.

“You didn’t do anything. It’s just late and, unlike some people, I need sleep.” Goldust chuckled, rubbing a thumb over Undertaker’s lips.

“Still, I… must take my leave.” Undertaker said, sitting up again, the tension that was always on his shoulders almost completely gone, making him feel weird, and almost sluggish. Although that didn’t last for long, thanks to what Goldust said next.

“Say… Would you like to sleep with me?”

Immediately, Undertaker tensed up again, eyes a little wide as he stared at Goldust, who blinked a few times, then laughed.

“Not like _that_ , you silly. I mean, truly sleep. Would you like to stay here for the night?” Goldust said as he got up from the bed, walking up to his bag and kneeling next to it.

“I… I do not know.” Undertaker said, watching as the other rummaged through his bag.

“Well, I’m going to go put on my PJs. Think about it while I’m gone, yes?” Goldust said as he walked to the bathroom, waving at the other before he closed the door.

Undertaker sighed, looking back at the TV for a while. Did he want to spend the whole night there? He kind of wanted to, he wasn’t gonna lie. But at the same time… that made him a little nervous. It was so serious… Then a thought from a good two weeks before entered Undertaker’s head again. When Shawn made that passing comment about them being boyfriends. Wasn’t… that what people in relationships did? Spend a bunch of time with each other, eating together, watching movies, sharing a bed…

Maybe… they really were boyfriends?

He gripped on the sheets a little. Hah, boyfriends. If it wasn’t happening right in front of his eyes like that he would rule that thought as complete absurd. And yet, there he was, on Goldust’s bed, after having dinner with him and letting Goldust feed him dessert.

Absurd, yes, but it was happening.

Goldust soon walked out of the bathroom, wearing what Undertaker could only assume was a golden silk set of pajamas. Where did that guy got so many golden colored clothes anyway?

“Ah, you didn’t run away while I was in the bathroom, good!” Goldust said, smiling widely as he walked to turn off the lights on the room, leaving only the TV and lamps on. “Does that mean you are staying?”

Undertaker finally let go of the bed sheets, leaning back on the bed. “I… guess there is no harm in that.”

Goldust opened the biggest, brightest smile ever, before pretty much jumping on the bed, grabbing Undertaker’s hands in his. “Thank you! It’s so awful sleeping all on my own, it’ll be very nice to have you here!” He let go of Undertaker’s hands, pulling on the sheets here and there so he could slip under them.

Undertaker figured he should get under those as well, so he just wiggled around a little on the bed to get under the sheets as well, not really bothering covering himself completely.

“Can you turn off the lamp on your side?” Goldust asked, turning off the one on his side before making himself comfortable by lying on his side, facing the other.

“Anh, sure.” Undertaker reached for the lamp, turning it off, the faint light of the TV being the only light source, aside from the weak light coming from the window.

“Thank you… Have a good night, deadman.” Goldust chuckled, eyes closing.

“Goldust… may I ask you something?” Undertaker suddenly said, before the other ended up sleeping on him.

“Yes?” Goldust said, not really opening his eyes.

“This… this between the both of us. What is that we are doing?”

Goldust squirmed a little, eyes opening again. “What you mean?”

“This, between us. Are we… is this dating? Are we dating?” Undertaker finally asked, actually mustering the courage to look at Goldust’s face.

“Hmm… I dunno, are we?” Even in the darkness of the room Undertaker could tell Goldust was smirking.

“I-I do not know. That is why I asked.” Undertaker said, chewing on one of his nails. Why was he asking that? Why did it matter? He then saw as Goldust’s hand moved to rest on his face.

“Do you want this to be dating?” Goldust asked, caressing Undertaker’s cheek with his thumb.

“P-Perhaps.”

“Then maybe we are.”

Goldust honestly didn’t know anymore, and was too sleepy to think too hard about that. He just pulled his hand away from Undertaker’s face and closed his eyes again, now decided to go to sleep proper. They would have plenty of time to talk about relationships and such the next morning.

Undertaker thought about saying something else, but decided against it, letting out a silent sigh instead. In the end, Goldust didn’t really answer anything. It was just like him, to be all dodgy about things. Undertaker was slowly learning it was very hard to get anything straight from Goldust, which didn’t exactly come as a surprise.

The rest of the night went on very quietly, with Undertaker shifting his attention from the TV to Goldust and back. Asleep like that, with no ridiculous make up nor wig, he almost looked like the most regular person in the world. Talk about deceiving looks.

That wasn’t the last time Undertaker would find himself spending the night with Goldust like that though. The following week Goldust was always coming up with an excuse to keep him there, and Undertaker found it harder and harder to say no each time. He knew Bearer was probably going crazy with that, with him going missing so many nights. He was aware his manager wasn’t an idiot and knew exactly where he was, even if he didn’t tell him, but Paul was probably thinking way more things were happening, when in fact the wildest thing to happen so far was Goldust draping an arm around his waist during sleep.

If anything, Undertaker was a little impressed by Goldust’s self-control. He imagined a guy with his kind of behavior wouldn’t hesitate jumping whoever was on his bed and yet… he didn’t dare lay a finger on him.

But, for whatever reason, in the very back of his mind, Undertaker was a little disappointed. Maybe because a small part of him **wanted** to be jumped on? Or maybe spending those nights awake by Goldust’s side watching him sleep were messing with his head? He really had no idea.

What did happen was that things progressed from them lying as far from each other as possible on the bed to them getting closer until their arms were barely touching, and when they realized it, Goldust had his face buried on Undertaker’s neck as he slept away, while the deadman had an arm around his body. And the warmth of Goldust’s body was so strangely comforting to Undertaker. So soothing and nice.

It was different, but in the best way possible. And it made him so unnaturally relaxed. Like nothing else really mattered. Like he didn’t need to be alert all the time.

And then, one night, while feeling hot breath against his neck and drawing small circles on Goldust’s back, Undertaker felt his eyelids heavy, in a way that was familiar to him, and yet it had been so long since such a thing happened, it felt foreign and weird.

Slowly, he felt he was falling asleep. And if his tiredness wasn’t so strong, he would have time to be surprised before shutting his eyes completely, and slipping into a deep sleep, after many years without doing so.

And he felt… at peace.


	15. ... Before The Inevitable Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I foreshadowed what happens on this chapter back in chapter 6 and I honestly need to stop doing subtle foreshadowing 10 chapters before the thing actually happens. I’m pretty sure that’s not how foreshadowing works.
> 
> With that said, GE READY FOR THE FEELS.

Undertaker could hear crepitation, very quietly, like it was coming from far, far away, as orange and yellow waves danced lazily in front of his eyes. There was a faint feeling of warmth around him, which was comforting, at first. Like the feeling of being softly embraced by someone you love.

Then, slowly, the sounds became closer, sharper, louder, the colors getting brighter, and the warmth, once comforting and nice, became harder and harder to handle.

His eyes widened, and he gave a step back, lips parted, as he heard a loud, painful scream echo from the other side of that wall of orange and yellow.

He reached out in the direction of the scream, but it was just too hot for him to handle. He heard more desperate screams, pleading for help, and every time he thought about giving a step forward, the crackling and the warmth got stronger, and he just couldn’t go on. He wasn’t strong enough to do so.

He called out from the other side of the now towering flames in front of him. Called out for names that haven’t been on his lips for years, as a trail of hot tears ran down his face. He was losing them. He was losing them again and it hurt just as much as the first time, his heart tightening inside his chest.

There was more screaming, and they cut through him like a knife, as a mixture of anger, sadness and guilt took over him, and more tears flowed from his eyes, his fingers buried on his hair as he stepped back, falling sitting down on the floor. He couldn’t do anything… Couldn’t help them, even if he wanted to. And it was all his fault. It was his fault and yet he wasn’t there, inside the flames. Wasn’t paying the price he should for something he caused.

Apologies left his mouth over and over, louder and louder, until he was shouting at the top of his lungs. He knew that wasn’t going to change anything, and yet… he kept doing it, screaming louder and louder as he tried to overcome the screams filling his ears, and everything got so unbearably warm.

And suddenly, the screaming stopped, and the bright colors were nowhere to be seen, but it was still warm, and Undertaker found himself sitting up in the dark, wide eyes staring at the wall in front of him. He was so transfixed he didn’t even notice the rustling at his side on the bed.

“Hmm… ‘Taker…? Is everything alright?” Goldust said sleepily, looking at Undertaker through heavy lids. He could hear the other mumble something under his breath, but couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. Slowly though, he noticed the deadman was just muttering apologies to himself over and over as he rocked back and forth ever so slightly, which made Goldust feel around the bedside table to turn on the lamp.

The moment the small light was turned on, Undertaker’s gaze snapped to the side, and he found himself staring at Goldust with wide, red eyes, lips trembling as he sobbed.

“ … Darling! What… what is… what happened?” Goldust was suddenly very, very worried, and placed a hand on the deadman’s shoulder. Was… was Undertaker crying? Yes. He indeed was. But… why? He seemed fine when they laid down to rest.

“They… they are gone… it is all my fault…” Undertaker’s voice was shaky, as he gripped on the sheets under him, unable to stop crying.

“What... Who’s gone? What happened?” Goldust moved his hands to place them softly on the sides of Undertaker’s face. “Tell me, please.”

Before any other words left Undertaker’s lips, he buried his face on the curve on Goldust’s neck, arms wrapping around the other’s body very strongly, as more tears flowed from his eyes. He couldn’t even begin feeling pathetic about crying like that, because his mind was too full with other thoughts.

“There… It’s alright, dear…” Goldust spoke softly, fingers running through Undertaker’s hair as his other hand patted his back softly. “You can tell me everything.”

Undertaker’s chest was still as tight as he felt it in his dream, but Goldust’s touches helped him ground himself a bit. But he was still sobbing quietly when he was finally able to string a coherent sentence together.

“I-It is not alright… My parents… my brother… they are… they are gone and I… it was all my fault…” He sighed as he gripped on the fabric of Goldust’s clothes.

Now Goldust was very confused. Parents and brother? What was Undertaker even going on about? And if it was something so serious to the point that made him cry – which in itself was already puzzling, considering Undertaker’s muted feelings – why he never mentioned it, ever? Why it just came up now.

“You… you are going to need to explain this better to me.” Goldust said, still making sure to pet Undertaker’s hair to try and calm him some. He never saw Undertaker that much out of control, emotionally wise, and it was a little scary, especially because Goldust wasn’t exactly the best at putting people’s worries to rest.

There were a few more quiet sobs from undertaker until he spoke up again.

“We… My famiy… we lived on the top floor of our funeral home.” Undertaker suddenly realized he never told anyone anything about his family in any way. In fact, it had been years since he even thought about them, because when he became undead not only that pretty much erased the very strong feelings he had for them, but it also prevented him from sleeping, and having nightmares about that one terrible night.

But… he figured he should tell Goldust, even if only to justify his actions.

“My brother and I were very close. He was two years younger than me and… we were always together.” Now he was talking about it Undertaker realized just how much he missed him, and how awful he felt about his premature and unnecessary death. “We played together all the time, and… heh… the other kids were scared of coming to our house because of the parlor, but we did not care.”

Goldust nodded softly as he listened to Undertaker talk. There was such genuine emotion on Undertaker’s voice, it was a little scary. He sounded very fond of his brother, and it made Goldust feel very bittersweet about the entire thing.

“But I… We used to steal boxes of matches from the drawers at the parlor, and we would go to the woods in the back of our home, make small campfires and just sit there. My brother loved doing it…” There was the faintest hint of a smile on Undertaker’s lips. He deeply missed those days.

“Looks like you had a lot of fun together.” Goldust couldn’t help but find it interesting just how contrasting his childhood was when compared to Undertaker’s. Clearly the deadman had a way simpler past than he did.

“We did… Our parents kept advising us against playing with fire, but… we were just children who thought they were just trying to spoil our fun.” Looking back, he should have given his parents words far more credit, but how was he supposed to know? He was just ten years old. He would never be able to foresee what such a seemingly harmless pastime could bring.

“Children are rather silly, aren’t they?” Goldust said, thinking back to when he was very young himself and how he made some… less than stellar choices.

Undertaker nodded in silence before talking. “Then… then one day I woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn’t on his bed and… I will never forget the smell of smoke and burnt wood, and how hot the fire was. And… I could hear him… on the lower floor. I… he was begging for help and I could not… I wanted to help him and I just…” He gripped on Goldust’s clothes again, not even sure why it was so easy to just spill out words about his past, but it had been so long since he was so overwhelmed by these feelings, he needed to get them out of his chest.

“Your… house burned down?” A knot formed on Goldust’s throat as he spoke. He never expected Undertaker’s past to hide something so absolutely horrendous. And soon he felt more tears on his already wet shirt.

“It was my fault. I was the one to encourage us to go out to start fires in the forest… If I have not done that. If I had simply listened…” Undertaker felt his words getting chocked back by sobs again.

“It’s not your fault. You were just a kid, and your brother was one too. You didn’t know any better.” Goldust rubbed Undertaker’s back softly with his hands. He could feel the guilt bleeding through Undertaker’s voice so much, and it honestly broke his heart.

“They died… they died and I could not do anything… I just ran away scared…” Undertaker remembered escaping by the window of his and his brother’s room, since he couldn’t open the bedroom’s door since the doorknob was too hot for him to turn it, and as the smoke took over the room he entered in panic. He slipped out the window and precariously walked on the roof, dropping down to the ground from the second floor, twisting his ankle in the process.

When he found himself outside, he crawled back, away from the house, and he could swear he could hear his family’s screams through the crackling of the fire. As he stared at the burning house he was scooped by one of the neighbors, who seemed relieved that someone escaped the house mostly unscathed, and he could hear the faint siren of a firetruck coming to his house. But that didn’t help to alleviate his worries none.

He knew there was nothing that could be done. Not anymore.

“And what could you do? Like I said, you were just a child. You could not save them.” Goldust said, trying to sound as comforting as possible. Undertaker was talking as if he throwing himself into the fire to help his family wouldn’t get himself killed as well.

“The least I could have done was to perish in the fire with them.” Undertaker couldn’t understand how was it fair that all his family died and he was the only survivor, since he was the ultimate catalyst of that disaster.

Goldust moved to put his hands on Undertaker’s face again, looking deep into those reddened, sad eyes.

“Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that again.” It was Goldust’s turn to feel his chest tighten. Was Undertaker even listening to himself right now?

Undertaker stared at Goldust’s eyes, blinking a little to clear the tears still on his own. He never heard Goldust speak like that. The tone he was using was somewhere between sad and angry and… Undertaker couldn’t even begin to read what feeling Goldust’s eyes were trying to convey.

“And why did you start thinking about that?” Goldust finally asked, still gazing into Undertaker’s eyes.

“… I had a nightmare about it. I had them constantly when I was mortal, and being undead brought a little bit of peace to my mind, since I could not sleep, and therefore I had no more nightmares. But then…” Undertaker paused, and then stopped gripping on Goldust’s clothes for a moment, arms dropping to his sides. “Then… tonight I fell asleep…”

He was so overwhelmed by memories from his past he didn’t even account for the absurdity of him falling asleep, after a good three years without doing so.

“Fell asleep?” Goldust was just as puzzled. Just… how did that happen? After all, when Undertaker first told him he didn’t sleep, Goldust thought he was just trying to add stuff to his already strange character, but after spending a couple nights with him, that was pretty much the truth. He would wake up in the middle of the night to Undertaker sometimes just… sitting there, still as wide awake as he left him when he went to sleep.

“… I miss them.” Undertaker said, shifting back to the previous subject rather abruptly.

“I don’t doubt you do. Can’t believe you went through all that…” Goldust sighed, and then placed a kiss on Undertaker’s forehead. “But please, stop blaming yourself for what happened, or because you couldn’t help them. And… please, don’t say you should have died with them.” Goldust said as he rubbed his thumb on Undertaker’s cheek to dry his tears.

Suddenly it made sense why Undertaker blocked everyone out of his life the way he did. It wasn’t only because he was some supernatural undead being. No one goes through such a gauntlet at such a young age and comes out of it without some pretty serious mental scars, and without being afraid of connecting to others with the fear of losing them. Goldust only wished he didn’t get to learn about it thanks to Undertaker having a type of panic attack.

“I wish I could tell them all I am sorry.” Undertaker averted his gaze from Goldust’s eyes. “But I do not know if they would forgive me.”

“I am sure they would.” Goldust lowered his hands and grabbed Undertaker’s into them. “And I’m sure they would be glad to know you were not harmed by the fire.”

Goldust was trying his best to comfort Undertaker but… how do you comfort someone regarding something so serious? It wasn’t like his words were going to magically heal whatever trauma was lodged inside the deadman’s brain. And it wasn’t like he knew how to make things better. This was not a situation he was prepared for, at all.

At the same time, even though Undertaker’s chest felt as heavy as it did when he woke up, it was good to have Goldust there to at least hear him, and try to say something. Sure his comforting words were making little to no difference, because he probably would still continue to blame himself for enabling his brother into playing with fire like it was no big deal, but he certainly could appreciate the other’s effort. It was more than expected from someone like Goldust, who seemed far too self-absorbed to care about anyone but himself.

Coming to think of it… Goldust was always very uncharacteristically sympathetic towards him. Kind of made him feel bad for judging him solely by his in ring behavior.

Undertaker let out a deep sigh, still not looking straight into Goldust’s eyes, and then finally said something. “Could you… Can you promise me one thing?”

“Yes, what is it?” Goldust asked, one hand still resting on Undertaker’s face while the other moved to his shoulder.

“Please… just… do not allow me to sleep again.” Undertaker said, unsure of how Goldust would be able to keep such promise.

Goldust blinked, then smiled at Undertaker, thumb brushing against his cheek again. “Don’t worry. Those pesky nightmares won’t get to you again. Not if I can help it.” Goldust leaned forward, placing a quick, soft kiss to Undertaker’s lips. He laid back on the bed, gesturing at the deadman. “Here, rest your head on my chest. Let me run my fingers through your hair a little.”

There was some hesitance from Undertaker, but he still moved to rest his head on top of Goldust’s chest, feeling his soft warmth and hearing his heartbeat. That was comforting, but he didn’t have to worry about getting too relaxed since his head was still full of all sorts of thoughts.

In the meantime, Goldust had a lot of thoughts of his own as he softly petted Undertaker’s head. He really wanted to convince Undertaker he wasn’t to blame for what happened, but he suspected it was a little too late to try and fix that damage. After all Undertaker spent a good fifteen years thinking like that, and Goldust doubted he could change his mind.

He still could try, right?

Or at least try and get the deadman rid of his nightmares.


	16. Fifteen Minutes Into Haunted House and Chill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it folks! We broke the 50,000 word mark!
> 
> And now, finally, we are starting to earn that highly coveted M RATING. IT'S ALL DOWNHILL FROM HERE PEOPLE.
> 
> With that said, enjoy these two back to being dorks again, and why not throw some borderline pervy stuff into it as well for good measure??

The days following Undertaker’s nightmare were strange, as expected. He was suddenly back to his distant, cold demeanor, and threw himself at work almost every time he wasn’t in the ring or getting ready for a match. He tried his best not to completely ignore Goldust, but it was hard to stay in touch with the other like usual, because his mind was full of overbearing thoughts.

Most of the time, they only talked through the phone, save for when Goldust came to visit him at the parlor, usually bringing him food – and it finally came to the point where Undertaker didn’t question the food anymore and just accepted it.

A lot of times Goldust didn’t say much, and just watched Undertaker work on his caskets and such. What was he supposed to say? He was honestly afraid of saying anything that could come off as jarring, or something that could aggravate Undertaker’s gloomy mood. So he thought that keeping the deadman company and showing him he was worried about his well being was all he could do for now.

At times, when Goldust was at the parlor, Undertaker invited him to sit outside on the garden, and it was strangely comforting to just sit there and watch the flowers and the tiny insects flying about, as he sometimes rested his head on Goldust’s shoulder.

And as much as Goldust liked spending those lazy afternoons by Undertaker’s side – which sometimes led to small kisses – he figured he should try to get Undertaker’s mind back to what it was. After all, they were making such good progress on their relationship. He wanted things back to what they were, but to achieve that he needed to get Undertaker to feel comfortable again. Not that he knew how to do that, as he never found himself in such a situation, but he was going to, at least, make a valiant effort.

First and foremost, to help Undertaker not fall asleep during the nights they were together, Goldust gave him many movies to watch. Most of them thriller and horror ones he got on VHS from his own collection or from friends. And more often than not, when he woke up in the morning, he would find Undertaker with his eyes glued to the TV, paying close attention to whatever movie he was watching.

After a couple nights doing that, and realizing Undertaker was showing great interest in those movies, particularly the ones which dealt with spirits and the like, Goldust came up with an idea that, at least in his opinion, was brilliant.

Goldust invited Undertaker to go out with him, in a day he seemed a little better, mood wise. He first took Undertaker to have a nice dinner out, at a somewhat fancy restaurant – even under Undertaker’s protests, because he definitely wasn’t used to being in any place like that. When that was taken care of, he told the deadman he wanted them to go to a “very special place”, or at least that was how he put it.

Undertaker was a little suspicious about Goldust’s invitation, but figured there wasn’t much harm into going wherever the other wanted to. They hopped on his bike and Goldust gave him directions to a place he never rode to in that city.

They drove until the edge of town, and finally Goldust told him to park in front of a seemingly abandoned house.

Goldust got off the bike and happily stood next to it, gesturing at the house.

“Ta da!” Goldust exclaimed, watching as Undertaker got off the bike.

“… Why have you brought me here?” Undertaker asked, studying the house for a bit.

“Well, since you are all about being spooky and dark and scary, I asked around and did some research and so and so… And then I found out that this house might be haunted.” Goldust said, with a large smile on his lips.

“Haunted?” Undertaker repeated that last word, head tilting to the side.

“Yes. You know, with spirits roaming about, chains rattling and so on.” Goldust chuckled.

“I am aware of what ‘haunted’ means. I do not understand why you brought me here.” Undertaker said, walking up to where Goldust was standing.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be a stick in the mud about this! Let’s go inside and explore a little.” Goldust said, grabbing Undertaker’s hand.

“… There is no such thing as haunted houses. Spirits do not roam among the living in such way. This is a fabrication of human imagination.” Undertaker stated, looking down at Goldust’s hand holding on to his.

“Ugh… Can’t you like, pretend for five minutes that you like having fun and that you don’t know about all the things that go on in the supernatural realm?” Goldust pouted. “Try to see it as one of those movies I gave you that you were super interested into?”

Undertaker let out a quiet, frustrated sigh. Well, now that they rode all the way there, the least they could do was go inside. He knew that Goldust was only trying to help and distract him, but that whole situation was just so silly.

“Fine. We shall go inside.” Undertaker said. He knew they weren’t going to see anything there, but he was going to humor Goldust some. They could use a change of pace on their daily lives.

Goldust opened a large smile and pretty much pulled Undertaker by the hand as he walked up to the front door of the house. He figured it probably wasn’t locked, since the front gate itself was ajar.

“Knock, knock, we are coming in!” Goldust said, turning the knob and with his eyes lighting up when the door gave a click and opened up with a loud creaking noise.

They walked up inside, still hand in hand, the floorboards making loud noises under their feet as they stepped on it. Everything was pretty dark and dingy, with the few pieces of furniture still inside the house covered in dust and cobwebs. Goldust tried a nearby light switch, but as expected it didn’t work.

“I should have brought a flashlight…” Goldust said, straining his eyes as he tried to adjust to the darkness inside the house. “At this rate I’m going to end up tripping on something.” He continued as he gave a few steps forward.

Undertaker just nodded, as he looked around the room they were in. He didn’t want to say it, but he found that place rather welcoming, which was probably expected, but still very weird. He knew Goldust didn’t exactly judge him and his unconventional tastes, but he figured he should keep that bit of info to himself.

“Look, let’s try to find some better source of light than the moonlight coming from the window, yes?” Goldust said, finally letting go of Undertaker’s hand. “These old houses always have candles and things like that lying around, so let’s try to find one.” He walked up to a set of drawers on the corner of the room and began rummaging through it.

Undertaker also began looking around. As cozy as the darkness was to him, he knew Goldust wasn’t enjoying that as much as he was, so he could at least make an effort to try and light up the room.

After a couple minutes looking around, Goldust finally found a candle lying around in one of the drawers. He pulled a box of matches from the pocket of his suit and lighted it up, turning around to look at Undertaker. “There we go, much better.”

Undertaker shifted his attention back to Goldust, and he had to admit he looked… strangely appealing under the soft yellow light from that candle.

“Now I can see your pretty face.” Goldust chuckled as he walked up to Undertaker, watching the deadman’s eyes dart around nervously. “But we are not here for me to gaze at you. Let’s explore around a little, yes?” Goldust said before he started walking to the other room, and Undertaker followed him.

Goldust would never admit it, but that place was a little unsettling to him. It was probably right up Undertaker’s alley, but he found way more pleasure in less dusty and more illuminated areas. But he tried to keep in mind that he was doing that for the deadman’s sake, so he pressed on, going deeper into the house, the floorboards creaking even louder now, and a few cobwebs getting stuck on his wig here and there. He was going to wash that immediately once he got back to the hotel.

Then, there was a noise on another room, and Goldust looked behind him, past Undertaker. “What was that?”

“I am not sure.” Undertaker said, looking at the darkness behind them.

“Ugh… this place is giving me the creeps. Haunted or not.” Goldust said, settling down the candle on a plate that was lying on a nearby table. Suddenly, there was that noise again, which got Goldust to stiffen a bit.

“I will go verify what is causing that noise.” Undertaker said as he unceremoniously walked out of the room, even before Goldust could say anything.

“He-Hey, don’t leave me here alone…” Goldust protested, but his voice was just above a whisper, and before he knew it Undertaker disappeared on the darkness of the next room.

 _Well, isn’t that great…_ Goldust thought to himself, letting out a sigh and looking around the room he was in, hands on his hips. There was no way he was going to leave the spot he was before Undertaker came back.

Suddenly there was a loud thud and a chilling creaking noise from the other room, and Goldust immediately picked up the plate with the candle and rushed into the other room.

“Undertaker! Are you alright?” He pretty much shouted as he entered the room, and found it to be completely deserted. He sat down the plate on some piece of furniture nearby and called out Undertaker’s name a couple more times, but he only got total silence in return.

 _C’mon now… you said yourself there’s no such thing as spirits…_ Goldust looked around the room nervously. What if bringing some supernatural entity like the Undertaker to such a place upset whatever was inside that house? What if whatever lived there decided to exert some type of revenge on the deadman? Oh goodness, he couldn’t be held responsible for the Undertaker’s demise like that!

Goldust gave a couple steps back, still nervously looking around, the shadows on the walls from the flickering flame of the candle looked way more menacing than they were before.

Suddenly, he hit his back on something he was pretty sure wasn’t there before, and he immediately jumped, turning almost immediately to face whatever was there with him… just to see nothing at all.

 _OK… alright… Goldy, you are letting this get to your head. Undertaker is just fine. He’s probably wandering around this dark house being all fascinated by it… it’s OK._ He knew it wasn’t exactly “OK”, but that was the least he could do for himself to calm his nerves.

Then there was another loud creak from the other room, and Goldust’s eyes widened a little more.

“Undertaker, is that you?” He asked, but once again he got no reply whatsoever.

 _Alright, if he doesn’t show up in two minutes I swear I’m leaving him behind…_ Goldust thought, when suddenly he felt his shoulders being grabbed and he pretty much screamed, moving away from whatever was touching him, just to see Undertaker standing there arms crossing in front of his chest.

“You are rather easy to scare.” He said, with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“… You… You asshole! I was really scared and really worried about you!” Goldust walked up to Undertaker and, despite the fact he wanted to punch the deadman on the face, he just limited to slap his arm a few times, causing Undertaker to back away from him, until his back was against the wall.

“I had imagined you were not so easily spooked, considering you were the one to suggest we came here.” Undertaker admitted that was a bit of a dick move, but it was a way too good opportunity to let it pass by.

“Ugh… I’m doing this for you, you ungrateful ass!” Goldust said, giving Undertaker’s arm one last slap. “You are lucky you are pretty or I would be really mad at you.”

Undertaker couldn’t understand why, but he was rather comfortable with Goldust calling him “pretty”, even if that wasn’t the most optimal time for compliments. Maybe being on a dark, unsettling looking house made him feel more at ease. And he was so at ease he didn’t make much of it when Goldust stepped up to him and got a little too close.

“You really should do something for me to compensate all the stress you just put me through.” Goldust said, sounding far more dramatic than needed. He was still a little mad, but seeing that slight smile on Undertaker’s lips was doing wonders to calm him down, to the point he was almost forgetting they were on a dingy old house, which was possibly haunted, no matter what Undertaker said,.

“And what are you expecting me to do to calm your fears?” Undertaker asked, arms still crossed in front of his body.

“Well, you could start by holding me to protect me from the evil spirits in this place.” Goldust chuckled, wrapping his arms around Undertaker’s neck.

“I am the sole evil entity in this room.” Undertaker finally uncrossed his arms and placed them around Goldust’s waist.

“You don’t look all that mean.” Goldust felt himself relax in Undertaker’s arms, lips brushing against the deadman’s.

There was a tingle of nervousness on the back of Undertaker’s mind, as it usually happened when Goldust got that close to him, but he was being able to actually shove that to side this time around, as he pressed back into those black lips before being the one to actually start a kiss.

Goldust had to admit he was a little surprised by that, but definitely wasn’t going to complain. It had been far too long since Undertaker was into anything besides light kisses and hand holding, so to taste his tongue was a very much welcome change of pace. Maybe he just needed to be brought into a dark, mysterious place to go back to his old self.

Now, Goldust wasn’t exactly sure when things started to get a little too serious, but it was somewhere around Undertaker kissing his neck with those cold lips of his, as his own hands worked on the buttons of the deadman’s shirt. Sure, a supposedly haunted house wasn’t exactly the best place for making out, but Goldust was going to take what he could get.

He stopped with the buttons for a second though, moving his head so he could whisper next to Undertaker’s ear.

“Can I open all of them?” He asked, idly drawing a small circle on Undertaker’s chest.

Undertaker let out a loud, long sigh, finally realizing that he was getting very carried away, to the point that, if Goldust didn’t mention it, he wouldn’t even notice his shirt was being unbuttoned.

“I suppose?” Undertaker said with his lips still close to Goldust’s neck. A part of him kind of wanted Goldust to push his limits a little further. He wasn’t sure if it was the darkness of the house that was doing it to him, or if it was Goldust’s genuine attempt to distract his mind and make him feel better, or if it was something else entirely, but he was strangely open to things he honestly never thought he would.

“‘Suppose’ ain’t gonna cut it. I want you to be sure of it.” Because as much as Goldust wanted to take a hold of Undertaker’s bare waist, he wasn’t ready to sacrifice the deadman’s trust on him just for that.

There was a moment of quiet and stillness between them, as Undertaker considered those words, and what they were doing. He could feel the warmth of Goldust’s hands through the fabric of his shirt, and that alone was so endearing…

“… Yes. Yes you can.” Undertaker said, lips back to brushing against Goldust’s neck, teeth nibbling softly on skin.

Goldust shuddered at those words. Honestly, unbuttoning a shirt shouldn’t make him so excited, but there he was, feeling a nice tingle at the end of his spine as his fingers worked on one button after the other, as he sighed softly at the cold breath hitting his neck.

At the last one, Goldust untucked the shirt from Undertaker’s pants, then pulled back a bit, sadly breaking the contact between the deadman’s lips and his neck, but he wanted to take a long look at Undertaker’s chest and stomach real badly.

“Well now, look at what you were hiding under all those clothes…” Goldust almost purred, gazing up and down at Undertaker’s body, licking his lips softly. Under the weak, flickering light of the candle next to them, the deadman’s body looked even more appealing than expected. “What a shame that you deny everyone of this sight.” Goldust’s hands moved to Undertaker’s waist, thumbs rubbing against the other’s skin.

“I do not… feel comfortable not covering my body.” Undertaker swallowed dryly as he shifted back to his usual shy nature for a moment. Goldust’s hands were almost burning against his waist.

“I’m not mad though. I greatly enjoy the privilege of being the only one to see you like this.” Goldust’s hands slid up, coming to rest on the bare chest in front of him. Undertaker was so cold and yet Goldust loved touching his bare skin.

Goldust leaned forward, lips against Undertaker’s again as he went in for another kiss, his hands wandering about the deadman’s body, almost instinctively pinching Undertaker’s nipple between his fingers.

Undertaker groaned inside the kiss, an arm passing around Goldust’s waist. He rather much liked that. He wouldn’t just say it out loud, but damn if that didn’t feel good. And he wanted Goldust to do it more. And he did. And he was so glad Goldust was kissing him because he was pretty sure the muffled moan that escaped him would be far too embarrassing.

“You like it?” Goldust chuckled as he broke the kiss, nipping on Undertaker’s lower lip before pinching a little harder, and the feeling he got from the groan that came from Undertaker shot literally straight to his groin.

“Yes…” Undertaker replied on a shaky tone, his gaze accidentally falling right into Goldust’s eyes. And the way those eyes burned with clear desire helped Undertaker none with how he felt torn between nervousness and excitement.

In one hand, Undertaker felt quite ready to just let everything go and simply allow Goldust do whatever he had in mind. On the other hand, was that what they wanted? To do something on some old, cobweb covered abandoned house? Undertaker wasn’t exactly romantic savvy, but he was pretty sure there were better settings for those things to happen.

As for Goldust, not to say he ever done it in a haunted house. That was a first, even for him, but he wasn’t going to say he hasn’t been in worse places and situations. In all honesty, being with Undertaker kind of made the whole setting exponentially better, no matter how shitty it actually was.

And Goldust hated to admit it to himself, because he thought he had a little more class than that, but there was something positively thrilling about the idea of dropping to his knees on those creaky floorboards and going to town on Undertaker. Not that he expected Undertaker to allow things to escalate to such a level, but a guy could dream, right?

“A pity I can’t see how flushed you are in this dim room.” Goldust said, before using his free hand to grip on Undertaker’s hair to pull his head back a little so he could drag his tongue over the deadman’s neck.

Undertaker was about to say something in response to that when he felt Goldust’s thigh pressed between his legs. That was certainly new and making him very nervous. It wasn’t bad in any way, but it sure got him to feel his cheeks burning like never before and kind of made him stiffen up a lot.

“Should I stop?” Goldust said under his breath, noticing Undertaker tense up the moment he lodged his leg between the deadman’s.

“N-No… I mean… This feels strange to some degree but I do not…” Undertaker felt that he was tripping over his words again, and decided to stop talking for a moment, letting out a long sigh instead.

“Is it good strange or bad strange?” Goldust asked, smiling against Undertaker’s neck as he deliberately rubbed his thigh against the other’s crotch.

“Decidedly good.” Undertaker answered, and was surprised by the lack of hesitance in his voice despite the shudder that ran all over his body.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Goldust asked, voice soft, as he ran his hand down Undertaker’s chest, nails dragging over pale skin softly.

“Yes. Yes I do.” Undertaker said as he moved his hands to Goldust’s back, gripping on his shirt a little.

“What if I pulled your hair _juuuust_ a little stronger?” Goldust smirked to himself as his fingers tangled on Undertaker’s hair even more and he pulled on it some more. Not enough to hurt of course, but enough to get a reaction from the other man.

Undertaker groaned quietly, and before he knew it he was pushing his hips against Goldust’s thigh. Once again he felt the other’s tongue drag along his neck and suddenly there was a strong bite on its curve. In all fairness, Undertaker didn’t know he could let out such a ridiculously loud moan that bordered the indecent.

Goldust didn't know that either. And that was the single, hottest noise he ever heard.

“Didn't know you were the type who liked being bitten.” Goldust chuckled under his breath, placing a few kisses over the bite mark he left on Undertaker's skin.

As he gripped on Goldust's shirt a lot stronger than before, Undertaker wanted to say that it was less him enjoying being bitten and more him being extremely overwhelmed by everything that was happening at the moment. And it only got more intense the more that thigh rubbed between his legs, and that hand ran up and down his body.

And Goldust was enthralled by it all. He wanted to hear every single tiny noise he could get from Undertaker, wanted to tease him and touch him until he was at his breaking point. He just looked so marvelous when losing control ever so slowly like that, Goldust wished he could keep that going on forever.

“Hmm... So pretty...” Goldust trailed off as he let go of Undertaker's hair, only to have access to his lips again to kiss him deeply, and noticed the deadman's lips weren't as cold as they usually were. In fact, he could swear there was clear hot breath coming out of Undertaker's mouth just before they locked lips again.

And if Goldust was more of an ass – or rather, if he was okay with being an ass to Undertaker – he would comment on the twitching he felt against his thigh, or on how Undertaker seemed more than eager to press and rub his clothed cock against it. But since he most definitely didn't want to ruin the mood, he held back any nasty comments.

Suddenly, as if Undertaker also noticed his eagerness and how hard he was getting, he pulled away from the kiss, placing a hand on Goldust's chest.

“T-That is... that is enough.” He breathed out, eyes staring at Goldust's neck.

Goldust laughed lightly, distancing himself from Undertaker a little, but still remaining close enough so the tips of their shoes were touching.

“Whatever you say, baby.” Goldust said, placing his hands on either sides of Undertaker's face. “That was _very_ nice though~” He licked his lips before leaning in to place a quick kiss over Undertaker's lips. His hands then dropped down to the deadman's shirt to button it up again.

“That was rather... interesting.” Undertaker said, swallowing dryly. He **almost** wanted to take things further, but he was suddenly terrified of his own eagerness. Not to mention, like he thought earlier, maybe they could do it at a better place. One that wasn't covered in dust from top to bottoma.

“It sure was. Didn't know you had it in you to be this... willing.” Goldust said as he closed the last button of Undertaker's shirt. “There, you are all good now.”

“Thank you...” Undertaker said as he stared at the buttons of his shirt.

“You better get back to your hotel. Your manager is probably worried about you.” Goldust said, more amused than bothered. It was actually a little funny how Bearer acted like some type of overbearing father to Undertaker.

“Yes... Probably.” For a moment there he even forgot Paul existed.

Undertaker straightened himself up, grabbing Goldust's hand a little nervously before walking with him. “This... this was... quite fun...?” He didn't even know if that was the term he should be using.

Goldust looked at Undertaker, eyes a little wide. It was surprising to hear the other say anything was “fun”.

“Glad to know you had a good time. I guess I finally compensated for that date of ours where you took me to see the stars, hm?” Goldust smiled warmly, and felt Undertaker hold his hand a little stronger as he grew very quiet.

They left the house and walked back to Undertaker's bike, hopping on it to head back to their hotels. Undertaker thought about suggesting them spending the night together, but his mind was too full of intrusive thoughts he was honestly worried about what could happen if they did do that after what happened on the house. So, he quickly dropped Goldust off at his hotel and barely said him 'good bye' before zooming away on his bike.

Goldust couldn't help but chuckle at that. Now things were getting even more interesting.

 


	17. Mentors and Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY MADE ANOTHER CHAPTER I'M SO SORRY FOR THE HIATUS???
> 
> Really, I am sorry, but the past months I was all over the place and my creativity was at an all time low, but hopefully this stops here! also sorry to the folks who posted comments on the last chapter of this fic and I ended up not replying to them!
> 
> Now, this chapter is more of a "hook" to what's to follow. I wrote it mostly to flesh out more how these two feel about each other, and also showcase more of Goldust's stubborness in admitting his feelings, and also Paul TRYING to accept Taker is changing, but having a hard time doing so... It's very dialogue based but it sheds more light into their feelings so HERE WE GO.
> 
> Can't wait for next chapter by the way, it will be EXCITING!

How long had it been since Undertaker had a longer conversation with Paul anyway? It seemed like ever since he got more and more involved with Goldust, the more he distanced himself from the shorter man, and that wasn’t a deliberate action from him or anything. It just… happened. Goldust was always showing him so many different things he never even dreamed of, it was very distracting. And now that, in his opinion, their relationship was getting quite serious, he figured he owned Paul at least an explanation for his erratic behavior the past couple months.

Bearer was a little hard to deal with, but he was also the one person Undertaker could trust, and the one who better understood him and the reasoning behind his actions. And he knew Paul meant well when he acted as a sort of overprotective parent towards him. He was likely just worried about his wellbeing.

Undertaker shuffled his feet against the carpeted floor of his hotel room as he sat on the bed, staring at the door, waiting to see when Paul would be back. When the door clicked open, he tensed up a bit, but tried not to look too nervous.

Paul walked inside the room, and upon seeing Undertaker he more or less let out a huff of air in clear frustration.

“So, you are here. What a surprise you are not out there frolicking with your new friend.” Bearer said, sounding quite displeased. He still didn’t exactly trust Goldust in any way, shape or form, and couldn’t understand why Undertaker felt the need to be around him.

“… We need to talk.” Undertaker said, and watched as Paul’s expression shifted from annoyed to a little confused.

“About?” Bearer asked, sitting on the other bed, in front of Undertaker.

Undertaker looked down at his own lap, fumbling with his fingers for a moment. “About me… and Goldust… And the way I have been behaving lately.”

“You are a full grown man you don’t owe me any explanation about your actions.” Paul made a dismissive gesture with his hand, rolling his eyes.

“Only I do. If I did not talk to you before, be sure it was not out of selfishness.” Undertaker started talking, looking up at Bearer again. “I simply got carried away.”

“As long as you don’t start to falter when it comes to matches, you don’t need to justify yourself.” Paul moved to get up from the bed. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to talk about whatever was going on between Undertaker and Goldust.

“Paul, please.” Undertaker said, almost unconsciously reaching out for Bearer’s arm in the process, and grabbing it at the wrist.

When Paul looked back at Undertaker’s face, there was something… odd about it. His eyes didn’t have the cold, distant stare Paul was used to. There’s something more to it, but he couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. And the way his voice sounded just now, just on the verge of being uneven, it was something Paul barely, if ever, heard before.

“Will you listen, please?” Undertaker said, his grip tightening around Bearer’s wrist, but not with the intention of threatening or hurting him, but because he was genuinely afraid of him just getting up and leaving and not listening. Which Paul did more often than not, whenever he was contradicted.

Bearer sighed, shoulders dropping. Most of his anger came from the fact he was losing control over something he had absolute control over. Bearer hated when things didn’t go exactly like he planned them out to be. And Undertaker going “rogue” and befriending the last person Paul expected him to was more than enough to incite all manner of negative reactions from him, towards both Undertaker and Goldust.

“Fine, I shall listen.” Paul rolled his eyes as Undertaker let go of his wrist.

“Thank you.” Undertaker placed his hands on top of his lap before continuing. “Paul… You know you are important to me. You are the sole family figure I still have left.”

Paul nodded at Undertaker in silence, waiting for what he had to say next.

“I mean it when I say that what I have been doing is not an attempt to spite you or actively go against what you tell me. It is… just happening.” Undertaker couldn’t explain why he enjoyed spending time with Goldust. “I can not say why, but the longer I stay with him, the more comfortable I feel around his presence.”

“So you like him?” Paul asked, trying his best not to sound stern as he spoke.

Undertaker hesitated for a moment, but soon spoke up. “I seem to have taken a liking to him as of late.”

Bearer let out a heavy sigh. Things were happening just as he feared. Unfortunately, it seemed like it was a little too late to try and intervene between Undertaker and Goldust, considering Goldust was able to change the deadman's usual mindset of despising everyone in his path.

“It's helpless... But I suppose this is my fault, to some extent.” Paul said, shaking his head to himself.

Undertaker didn’t say anything, but he did give Paul a very inquisitive look.

“I’ve tried everything I could to shelter you from everyone, because I was always afraid others would take advantage of you.” Paul continued. “You are a ruthless force in the ring, but you are quite naive about everything else.”

For a moment, Undertaker wanted to protest against that statement, but in all fairness Paul was just stating a fact. It wasn’t like Undertaker was out there making loads of friends and connections and getting into all manner of relationships. Pretty much all he knew in life revolved around his job and wrestling. Human interactions were not his strong suit, and he had to admit he didn't quite know everything that came with the territory of being in a relationship.

“Although…” Bearer started, then paused for a moment as if pondering. “I expected that degenerate new friend of yours to take advantage of it a whole lot more.” Sure Undertaker wasn’t telling him any details about what was happening between him and Goldust – and he surely did not want to know said details – but it was pretty clear that nothing too serious happened between them. And taking into consideration Goldust’s track record, Bearer was a bit surprised he didn’t throw himself at the deadman at the first opportunity.

Sure he was still suspicious about Goldust, and was pretty sure that was just an elaborate trap he was laying for Undertaker, but it was admirable to see him at least respect the deadman.

“He has shown to be far less intrusive outside the ring than I first imagined.” Undertaker said, and in a way he could see he was saying it in an attempt to defend Goldust, which he had no need to, but felt compelled to. It was also a good thing Bearer knew he couldn't lie to save his life, so he knew the shorter man wouldn't doubt his words.

“And just how much do you 'like' him?” Paul inquired, not sure if he was ready for the reply that would follow.

“I...” Undertaker paused, averting his gaze from Paul's face to his own shoes. “What I feel for him is different from anything I ever felt before.” He wanted to openly admit it was all a little overwhelming, describe everything he was feeling lately, but figured he didn’t need to give Paul the more intricate details.

Deep inside, Paul couldn’t shake off the feeling Goldust was, somehow, manipulating Undertaker to make him feel just the way he wanted the deadman to. Was tricking him into thinking there was something meaningful between the two of them, to the point of making Undertaker believe they genuinely liked each other, or even loved.

Hah, _love_. Paul knew Undertaker well enough to know he was not able to feel such a feeble human emotion. Neither before nor after he turned undead. He was never the type to show deep affection towards anyone, and in a way, that comforted Bearer a little. Told him that, no matter what Goldust did, he wouldn’t be able to just change whoever Undertaker was.

If Goldust wanted to entertain himself for a while, and if Undertaker wanted to go through some novel experience, Paul would let them be. But he was prepared for the inevitable day when Undertaker would come back to their hotel room, all silent as usual, and just never speak of Goldust’s name again. And hopefully, it would happen sooner than later.

“Well, there isn’t much I can do to change that, is there?” Bearer said, arms crossing in front of his body.

“I am afraid there is not.” It wasn’t like Undertaker wanted Paul to do anything though. Even though they were quite unusual and intense, he had no intention to push his feelings aside. Not anymore, that is. He was slowly but surely learning to accept and embrace them, one at a time, and the fact Goldust was giving him time and space to adapt was a much welcome help.

And also, he had been thinking a lot about their last meeting, down at that supposedly haunted house. The way his body felt warm and comfortable, the way he seemed almost eager for contact with Goldust, the thoughts floating inside his head while hot breath brushed against the skin of his neck. He wasn’t even aware he was capable of such actions, feelings and thoughts, and yet, there they were, and there were little to no regrets inside his head about them.

There was a long silence between Undertaker and Bearer, while the deadman thought about all those things, almost forgetting the other was even there.

“Anything else you want to discuss with me, or are you done?” Paul spoke up, sounding a little bitter as he could clearly see that Undertaker’s mind was suddenly far, far away.

“My apologies. I got caught up in my own thoughts.” Undertaker said, snapping out of his little daydream. “I just want you to understand I still have plenty of respect for you and it was never my intention to insult you with my behavior.”

Paul looked at Undertaker then sighed, uncrossing his arms. “I suppose I wasn’t exactly in my best behavior either, promptly pointing fingers at him and overreacting at your actions.” He could be very stubborn, and even a little irritable when things didn’t go his way, but he genuinely cared about Undertaker’s wellbeing, and he liked to believe he could smell a weasel from miles away. And needless to say, Goldust reeked of bad news. “Although, you are not a kid, and I guess I need to understand that. You are old enough to make your own decisions.”

To Bearer, it was hard to accept Undertaker was slowly moving away from being the quiet, almost sheltered youngster from a couple years prior and growing into a full-fledged adult, one who was his own individual, one who freely made his own decisions and didn’t rely on  an older figure.

Much to Paul’s surprise, Undertaker grabbed one of his hands on his, before looking at him right in the eyes, that unreadable expression back on his face.

“It is important to me that you understand this, Paul. And that you are not disappointed in me.”

Bearer blinked a few times. Disappointed? He was more shocked than disappointed, if anything, but that uneven tone was back to Undertaker’s voice, and Paul found it hard to ignore it.

“You… are worrying about my opinion on this matter a little too much.” Paul thought that maybe he had been a little too overbearing towards Undertaker, and his over protectiveness was now taking its toll on the deadman’s ability to walk with own legs, when it came to personal matters.

“I am just… I am afraid of losing your company over a trivial matter.” Undertaker said, the words feeling almost foreign as they left his mouth. Even though he had been admitting to feelings a whole lot more lately, it was still hard to label that behavior as “natural”. And to be honest about how he felt towards others, aside from feeling dread, didn’t feel natural either.

And by Paul’s surprised expression, he also agreed all that felt really strange. So much, he didn’t really have a reply.

“Don’t you have anywhere to go? Don’t you and your playdate have to meet or something?” Paul purposely changed the subject, pulling his hand away from Undertaker’s.

“Please, just promise me you are not going to allow something so frivolous to break the bond we have.” Undertaker said, visibly ignoring Paul’s attempt to change topics.

“Y-Yes, I promise! Just… stop looking at me with that… face.” It was almost unsettling to see so much expression upon Undertaker’s face.

“Thank you, Paul. It means a lot to me.” Undertaker said, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Paul wasn’t sure if he liked it or not that Undertaker was expressing slight feelings like that. The one thing he was sure about was that Goldust was to blame for it, and he couldn’t decide whether he should congratulate or condemn the other man for achieving such a feat.

In the meantime, Goldust was busy with his own affairs.

As much as he enjoyed their time together at the haunted house, and how much more relaxed Undertaker got after it, it still bothered him the deadman couldn’t let the past go. He understood it was a hard thing to do, but there should be ways to cope with hat feeling, right?

And that was how he ended up with a bunch of books dealing with childhood trauma lying on the bed of his hotel room, most of them borrowed from his sources in Hollywood. Folks who knew about psychology way better than he ever could, and could steer them in the right direction. Sure he didn’t tell any of them he needed those books for personal reasons. He just lied and told them he needed research material for a new role in a movie. Honestly, he didn’t owe them any details about his personal life.

He put down the book he was reading at the moment, and looked around the other ones all around him, and ended up laughing lightly to himself. He sure was getting emotionally invested on The Undertaker, wasn’t he? But then again, he figured that was bound to happen eventually, with Undertaker being such an intriguing and fascinating figure. Goldust not only loved people like that, but he also loved figuring them out, and if reading a lot of books would help him comprehend and, heck, even help the deadman, he was sure to do it.

Leaning back on his bed, he put the book on his hands aside for a moment, letting out a sigh. Just how many words he read that afternoon? A lot, that much he could tell. He couldn’t remember the last time he made that much research on something he wasn’t exactly well versed in.

The info he gathered was quite important though. Most of the books he read seemed to be in agreement that people who went through traumatic experiences need the support of others, even when they tell themselves they don’t, and he was guessing Undertaker fell on the category of people who refused to get help, no matter.

But he was going to give the other man help, he like it or not. Watching Undertaker cry that one night was one of the most disheartening sights he ever had the displeasure to witness, and he honestly didn’t feel like going through it again, not only for his sake but for the deadman’s sake as well. It just… it wrenched his heart to see him in such a state. Watch such a strong man crumble under his own feelings… Such a beautiful, stern face contort in pure sadness and guilt.

Goldust was the first to admit he didn’t really feel empathy towards anyone, aside from a select few individuals, like his close family, and Marlena, so he never expected to feel that towards anyone outside that small, closed group.

But Undertaker, he was different. Goldust didn’t like to admit his interest on the other man went beyond aesthetic appreciation, but now he found himself surrounded by those books, and how he went out of his way to get the deadman to feel better after his emotional breakdown, even he had to accept he had developed actual, real feelings for Undertaker.

Which… wasn’t bad per se, because Undertaker was clearly someone worth having feelings for, but it still felt really weird, after the countless superficial relationships Goldust went through.

He not only wanted those cold hands upon him, or those icy lips brushing against his neck. He wanted more than that. He wanted a real, legitimate connection with the deadman. Wanted to know about his life, about how the cogs in his mind turned, about his past, and maybe even his future plans, if he had any? He suspected Undertaker didn’t.

Goldust felt a little silly by thinking about all that, and also pathetically needy as he laid there thinking about how he missed being near Undertaker, missing the soft smell of wood and flowers which came from him, the way he spoke on that low, gravely voice…

He was so smitten, and it was so dumb. And yet he didn’t feel like changing a thing. He was enjoying being smitten for once. Being the one all fascinated and not the other way around. He had enough with people being all over him when he wasn’t even that interested. It was probably his time to be helplessly attracted for once.

A sound from the door took Goldust away from his thoughts, and he saw the door open as Marlena walked inside the room. She stopped next to the bed, eyeing the books with a puzzled look, then looked up at him.

“What are all these doing here?” She asked, head tilting to the side.

“Hm?” Well, Goldust should have prepared a quick lie for this occasion, since telling Marlena he was preparing for a movie wasn’t going to fly, considering she was his director, of all people.

“These books.” She picked one of them up, looking at the cover and skimming through the pages. “Are these all psychology books?”

Goldust nodded slowly.

“Wait… don’t tell me. You are doing this for your lil’ boyfriend, aren’t you?” Marlena said, a large, sly smile spreading across her lips. Goldust had told her about the night when Undertaker flipped, but he didn’t give details about how bad it was. Now though, Marlena had an idea, and just how invested Goldust was in learning more about how to deal with it.

“Well, yes, it has to do with him. What’s the big deal?” Goldust said, cheeks flushing slightly as he turned his attention back to the book he was previously reading.

“Awh, it’s so cute you want to help him out with his issues!” Marlena chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the bed, book still on her hands. “Are you finally going to admit you are in love with him?”

“Wanting to help someone doesn’t mean you are in love! If that was the case I should be in love with all my family members!” Goldust said, almost unconsciously burying his face against the book he was reading. Why was Marlena always so adamant about throwing that word around? He didn’t feel like he loved the deadman. He just appreciated him a lot, and that was about it. Love was a bit of a too strong feeling. A feeling that, in his opinion, was quite messy and he didn’t want to deal with.

“You are absolutely ridiculous, darling, are you aware of that?” Marlena said, putting down the book she picked up. It was pretty frustrating Goldust wouldn’t just admit to his feelings most of the time. He was always going above and beyond to put up a front to others, about just how not serious his feelings towards them were, and trying to get past that was one of the most annoying things in the world, and she knew it very well.

She could only hope he would stop being so stubborn and just accept what he was feeling.

“Ugh, look, it was just a little sad seeing him all in tears when he remembered the past. If you were there you would feel sorry for him too, and even you with your heart of stone would want to help him.” Goldust said, clearly annoyed by Marlena’s attitude.

“No need to get all up in arms about that, babe. I was just poking some fun at you.” Marlena giggled, looking over the books. “But I’m curious about what you found out so far by reading all these.”

“Well, these books aren’t exactly the most helpful, because almost all of them deal with stuff he really didn’t go through, but I guess I still can apply some of the stuff here to his case?” Goldust said, sounding a little uncertain. Most of the books he got dealt with children who suffered abuse, and there was very little about traumatic experiences outside that spectrum, which was both frustrating and saddening. How was he supposed to deal with something he knew so little about if he couldn’t even get proper research material on the matter?

“And what you think can help your undead friend?” Marlena said, almost laughing at her use of the word “friend” to refer to Undertaker.

“One of the things is that I shouldn’t force him to talk about it, which honestly was a no-brainer. If we never talk about this again, it’ll be too soon.” Goldust said, remembering how unpleasant it was to hear about that specific part of Undertaker’s past. “Although I need to be there when he does want to talk about it, I guess, even if that brings me a lot of dread.”

Marlena nodded, hands resting on her lap as she watched Goldust talk.

“There was a lot about building trust in these books, and I think I’m doing a good job on that front, considering he still didn’t run away from me.” Goldust let out a quiet chuckle. “But in all seriousness, they are always emphasizing how important it is to make sure the other person know they can trust you, and I guess I need to keep an eye on that.”

Goldust knew for a fact he wasn’t the most trustworthy fellow. In fact, more than once he didn’t really hesitate betraying people to achieve his end goals, and at the same time he wasn’t particularly proud of that behavior pattern of his, he felt like that was a necessary trait of his, considering he was always around very competitive areas, not only in the ring but in his acting career.

Although, trauma or not, he really couldn’t see himself doing that to Undertaker. Not anymore that is. It came to this point where he wanted the deadman to trust him, and not feel insecure or awkward around his presence. And, based on how things had been unfolding lately, things were going just fine. Well, even more than fine, from his point of view.

“I’ll say, I never thought I would see the day you would put someone else before you, dear.” Marlena teased, a sly smile back to her lips. Watching Goldust talking about trust and listening to others was strange, but kind of heartwarming.

“Oh, Marlena, you know I’m not **that** selfish! I mean, I’ve always treated you well, didn’t I?” Goldust said, gently grabbing one of Marlena’s hands and kissing the back of it softly.

“Yes, yes you did. But I can’t say I ever expected you to treat anyone else this nicely.” There was a pause, then Marlena let out a small laugh. “You know, if you keep spending so much time with Undertaker and treating him so well, I might start getting jealous!”

“Never fear, my darling Marlena. No matter how much he fascinates me, you will always have a special spot in my heart.” Goldust kissed the back of her hand a few more times, smiling at her. He owned her so much, he couldn’t even begin imagining his present life without her.

“Still, I bet you are thinking about him right now, even with me here right in front of you. Thinking about his body and his voice, and how your little heart skips a beat when his hands are upon you~” Marlena teased again, and Goldust slapped her lightly in the wrist.

“Oh my God! I totally am not thinking about that! I was just reading these books and whatever naughty thought that could have crossed my mind would be killed by how depressing some of them are.” Goldust said, mind drifting a little now that Marlena mentioned the more physical side of the deadman. “And even if I were, can you blame me for having such thoughts about someone so gorgeous?”

“I guess I can’t.” Marlena said, pulling her hand away from Goldust’s. “Anyway, I’m very tired from running around all day today, I’m going to take a nap before dinner, and leave you to your research, yes?” She said as she got up from the bed.

“I’ll be as quiet as mouse then, don’t worry! Sleep well.” Goldust said, going back to the book he was previously reading.

“I will. And don’t let me sleep for hours on end like last time, hm?” Marlena asked, in an almost scolding tone.

“It’s not my fault you look so lovely when you sleep I just can’t bring myself to wake you up!” Goldust replied, giving her a playful wink.

“Yes, yes… but still, wake me up. I don’t want to miss dinner again.” Marlena plopped down on her bed, taking off her high heels and undoing a few buttons of her shirt before moving to lie down.

Goldust watched Marlena for a while then sighed quietly while going back to his book. He still had a lot of reading to do, and he hoped he didn’t get caught up in it, and ended up not waking her up. He would never hear the end of that from her.


	18. A New Rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put that on the list of things that got accomplished!! I finally got a new chapter out, I'm so sorry about the ridiculous hiatus!!
> 
> I was really excited to write this chapter, not to mention that midway into it I changed things and whatnot?? Also unexpected actions from undertaker?? Feeeeeeelings are changing hiiiiiim!! Also, dat good M rating <3

Undertaker sat there at the restaurant’s table feeling a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t exactly sure how Goldust convinced him to go on that… what did he call it again? Double date? Yes, that was the term.

Now he was inside a rather noisy restaurant, sitting by Goldust’s side, and across them he could see an overtly excited – and also slightly intoxicated – Shawn, accompanied by a quiet, almost grumpy Nash. It was pretty clear Diesel was also brought there quite against his will. And he obviously did not like to be in Undertaker’s company. Not after the feud they recently had.

If looks could kill, Undertaker would have dropped dead as soon as he set foot inside the restaurant, by the way Nash glared at him from the other side of the room as soon as he arrived.

As for Goldust, he was barely paying attention to the mean looks Nash was still giving the deadman, as he was clearly a little too busy chatting up with Shawn, speaking a little louder the more wine he got in his system, as they gossiped about pretty much everything and everyone while eating. And not only he was very excited about being able to bring Undertaker with him to a night out like that, he was quite happy about the progress of their relationship in the past week or so.

After the haunted house “episode”, they ended up shifting back to where they were before Undertaker’s nightmare – but Goldust still didn’t stop reading those books. And as the days passed, Goldust noticed Undertaker was slowly being more open, more comfortable. He even took initiative here and there, with some kisses and soft touches. Goldust had to admit he was quite charmed every time Undertaker grabbed his hand very softly, or when he planted light kisses on the side of his neck.

Although, things never progressed much past that. Their make out at the haunted house was the furthest they went, and Goldust was getting antsy. As much patience as he was exercising, that was starting to run very dry. And he guessed that if he didn’t do something about it soon, he was going to explode, in more ways than one.

He downed another sip of wine and leaned back on his chair, a smile spread across his pitch black lips.

“Shawn, you are just _awful_ , are you aware of that?” Goldust chuckled.

“I’ve been told that a couple times, yes.” Shawn said, running his fingers through his hair in a flashy manner. “You don’t stay much behind though.”

“Well, either that or risk being swallowed by the wolves back in good old Hollywood.” Goldust replied, his attention finally shifting to Undertaker, eyeing his empty plate. “How was the food, dear?” He spoke as one of his hands moved to rest on top of the deadman’s lap.

“It was quite satisfying.” Undertaker had to make an effort not to look too tense when he felt Goldust’s hand creeping up his thigh.

“Ah, wonderful! … Nash, sweetheart, you don’t look very happy. Was your food bad?” Goldust asked, head tilting to the side as he finally noticed the look of sheer displease on Diesel’s face.

“Food was fine.” Nash huffed out, breaking eye contact with Undertaker for a moment as he crossed his arms. The only reason why he wasn’t being ruder was because Shawn expressively told him not to ruin everything that night. Something about not putting a strain on Goldust and Undertaker’s budding relationship.

Not that he cared about whatever was going on between those two, which was very weird in his opinion, but he wasn’t looking forward to one of Shawn’s famous “sex strikes”. So, for his own sake, he was willing to behave.

“Hmm… I guess I could use a smoke right about now. Shawn, want to go with me?” Goldust said, his hand finally leaving Undertaker’s lap.

“Eh, why the hell not. I could use a break from the noise in this place too.” Shawn took a quick look around. He expected the place to be full, since it was a Saturday night, but not that packed.

As both of them got up, Goldust blew Undertaker a kiss before taking his leave.

There was an uncomfortable silence at the table as Undertaker and Nash sat there, staring at each other, with Nash clenching his fists, very much willing to punch the deadman square in the face right then and there. And Undertaker couldn’t say he didn’t wish to do the same.

“You know, it’s fucking weird seeing you two together like that.” Nash finally broke the silence, getting his beer to take a large gulp from it.

Undertaker sighed, looking away. “I am aware.”

“He looks super into you though. That… I mean, how are you dealing with that?” Nash asked, making a vague gesture with his hands.

“… Dealing with what?” Undertaker said, eyes back to Nash’s face.

“You know… him.” Nash pointed with his head at the front door, where Shawn and Goldust disappeared to.

“I do not think I follow.”

“Look, both me and you know he’s kinda on the nasty side. I’m not saying being there is bad, but he goes way over the limit and doesn’t know when to stop.” Nash took another sip from his beer. “I mean, just how many times he got you to fuck in the like, what? Three months this been going on between you two?” Nash didn’t know the details, because he sure as hell didn’t want to hear about it from Shawn, so he was estimating their time together.

“Excuse me?” Undertaker felt his fists clench.

“Look, you talking about this crap with me won’t be much different from the stuff Shawn tells me from time to time.” Nash leaned back, shrugging, not noticing or choosing to ignore the rage burning inside Undertaker’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Goldust and Shawn were halfway through their cigarettes. They smoked mostly in silence, until Shawn punched Goldust lightly on the arm.

“So, how’s it going with him?” He asked, a sly smile on his lips.

“You wanna know the truth? He’s a darling. Like, you wouldn’t think, with him being cold, distant and, well, angry all the time, but he’s quite sweet.” Goldust sighed, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“You know, I never thought I would hear anyone refer to Undertaker as… sweet.” Shawn was a little more inclined to describe him as ruthless, even heartless. Who would have thought he had an actual soft side?

“It’s pretty weird, isn’t it? I never thought it would come to this either.” Goldust chuckled.

“And did the two of you, you know...” Shawn gave Goldust a devious grin, which made his question pretty clear.

“Shawn, do you really think I’m type to kiss and tell?” Goldust asked, pretending to be offended.

“I think you are the type to kiss and put it up on a highway banner actually.” Shawn kept grinning.

“Well, if you must know, we didn’t do anything, _yet_. I’m itching, but he’s just so absolutely cute, I can’t muster the courage to push his limits, and this is very frustrating!” Goldust ran his fingers through his wig, letting out an exasperated sigh. If he wasn’t so charmed by Undertaker’s shyness, he would definitely throw himself at the deadman a lot more.

“Well, good luck with t-” Shawn started, but was cut short by some loud ruckus coming from inside the restaurant, which made him look over his shoulder. “Hm, what’s going on in there?”

“I don’t know…” Goldust said as he opened the door, cigarette between his lips. Said cigarette promptly fell from his mouth as soon as he peered inside and saw Undertaker pretty much chocking Nash against a nearby wall, much to the horror of the other patrons and the staff.

Goldust rushed inside, followed by an equally exasperated Shawn.

“‘Taker, dear, wha-… Let him go?” Goldust wasn’t even sure what was going on, so he wasn’t sure if asking Undertaker to let go of Nash would help any.

“He blatantly disrespected you, even when I explicitly told him not to.” Undertaker said, in his usual cold and intimidating tone of voice, glaring at Nash in a way that it seemed like he was ready to suck out his soul at any given time.

“D-Do something!” Shawn demanded, not really in the mood to see his partner being offed right then and there.

“Undertaker, let’s go, please?” Goldust said, placing a hand on Undertaker’s arm. He didn’t know what the other meant by “disrespect”, but whatever it was, undertaker was overreacting.

The deadman finally shifted his gaze from Diesel to Goldust, his hand squeezing Nash’s neck for a moment, causing him to choke one last time, before he let the other man go. There was so much pleading inside Goldust’s eyes he found it hard to ignore his words.

Nash gasped for air for a few moment, shooting murderous looks towards Undertaker, while Shawn rushed to his side, gaze shifting between him and Undertaker.

“Shawn, I… I’m very sorry just...” Goldust reached for the wallet on his back pocket, pulling a random sum of money from it. “We are… taking our leave now, just, keep the change.” Goldust said in a hurry, grabbing Undertaker by the arm before taking him outside in quick, rushed steps.

When they were one or two blocks away from the restaurant, Goldust finally broke the silence between them, while letting go of Undertaker’s arm.

“What… What were you thinking??” Goldust asked, letting out a huff of air in sheer anger.

“I… I apologize. I seemed to have lost control of my actions...” Undertaker said, not being able to look into Goldust’s eyes.

“You better be sorry! What were you thinking, jumping at a guy like that in the middle of a restaurant! If you have a bone to pick with him solve it in the ring, God!” Goldust said, looking around the streets to see if he could find a cab for them.

“He would not stop talking about you in a degrading manner.” Undertaker said, and Goldust looked at him, a slightly puzzled look on his face despite his anger.

“Eh?” Was all that came out of Goldust’s lips.

“He insinuated you are solely interested in people for… sexual gratification. Which I strongly disagree.” Undertaker was still not looking at Goldust’s face.

“… So he pretty much called me a whore, hm?” Goldust said, and watched as Undertaker’s cheeks got a small tint to them. He wasn’t sure if it was due to anger or embarrassment.

“In essence.” Undertaker swallowed dryly.

“Well, I’ve been called worse.” Goldust stepped closer to the other man. “And you got angry at him because of that?”

“I have known you better these past months. You are not what you seem to be in the surface.” The deadman crossed his arms, a little nervous about the fact that the other was getting closer to him.

“… Heh… kinda sweet of you to protect my integrity like that, but… you could be a little milder about it next time.” Goldust commented, thinking back at how terrified Diesel looked when pressed against the wall. “And besides, I don’t really care what other people think about me.” He shrugged, back to looking for a cab but now standing a little closer to Undertaker, his anger diminishing.

“I care.” Undertaker said before he could stop the words coming out of his mouth.

Goldust looked at him for a moment, blinking a few times. Then he laughed, placing a finger under the deadman’s chin.

“Why, if you say things like that, I’m going to start thinking you are falling for me, sweetheart~” He teased, amused by Undertaker’s face getting a little redder.

“It just bothers me, that is all.” Undertaker said, hoping Goldust would drop the subject, which he did, because he shifted his full attention to finding them a cab, which showed up quite soon.

The ride to the hotel as completely quiet, and slowly but surely Undertaker was feeling the weight of his actions pile on his shoulders. Goldust was probably going to stay mad at him for a long time after that night’s incident, and such fact was definitely going to put a dent on their relationship, which… Undertaker didn’t really want.

On the other end, Goldust was indeed angry, but also a little glad to know Undertaker saw him in a light that was quite different from how he presented himself to others. And it was nice to know the deadman was bothered by others disrespecting him. He never thought he would see anyone act in such a way, save for Marlena. And he had to admit the look on Diesel’s face was just priceless.

It was helpless: he just couldn’t stay mad at Undertaker for too long, could he?

They reached the hotel shortly, stepping out of the cab as Goldust paid the driver. They stood in front of the building for a while, before Undertaker turned to Goldust.

“So… I wish you good night.” He said, ready to take his leave, but was stopped on his tracks when Goldust grabbed his hand.

“Actually, before your little ‘scene’ back there, I had something planned, after the dinner...” Goldust held Undertaker’s hand between both of his. “Maybe we both could use that to simmer down?”

“… Planned?” Undertaker said, almost hesitantly.

“It’s nothing too extravagant, so don’t go getting nervous!” Goldust said, letting go of Undertaker’s hand and passing an arm around his. “Shall we go then?”

Undertaker figured that even if he wanted to say ‘no’, he couldn’t muster the courage to do so, so he simply followed Goldust into the hotel, walking up to the elevator.

He couldn’t help but wonder what Goldust had in store. It was most likely something silly like a gift of sorts, like some box of chocolates or whatever. Or maybe some new movie he wanted to show him. Goldust was always doing small things like those for him, and Undertaker couldn’t say he didn’t appreciate those gestures.

He was so busy thinking about whatever Goldust was planning, he didn’t even notice when the elevator made a small ding noise, and the doors opened.

“Hey, it’s our floor.” Goldust said, snapping his fingers in front of Undertaker’s face. “Were you thinking about me?” He asked with a grin, pulling Undertaker by the arm out of the elevator.

“I guess you could say that…” Undertaker replied, hoping Goldust wouldn’t ask him to deliberate.

But sadly, he did.

“Hm… What were you thinking about?” He chuckled, leaning closer to the deadman as they walked down the quiet hallway.

“What… what your plans are.” Undertaker said. It was still strange to have Goldust’s warm body against his, but he was steadily getting used to that as the days passed. And also enjoying it.

“Don’t think too much about it, I just want to treat you.” Goldust inched closer, lips brushing against Undertaker’s neck as they walked down the hallway.

Undertaker sighed, his head tilting to the side almost automatically, and he shuddered some when Goldust’s teeth grazed against his skin. He constantly questioned how Goldust managed to lower his defenses so effectively, but honestly he couldn’t figure it out.

When they reached the door to Goldust’s room, he stopped giving Undertaker’s neck attention for a moment to search for the key inside the pockets of his coat. He found it, eventually, unlocking the door and guiding the deadman inside, still arm in arm with him, only letting go once they were inside.

“Now. Stay here, and don’t go anywhere, OK?” Goldust said, before giving Undertaker a quick peck on the lips and going into a small room that was connected to the bedroom.

Undertaker took a look around the place. Goldust was always very adamant about getting the best rooms the hotels could give him, which Undertaker thought was quite silly. Why spend so much money on a place you would only enjoy for a couple hours, at best? And mostly, a place you would use mostly to sleep. To him, it made no sense, but he figured Goldust was too deep into the glitz and glamour of Hollywood to consider anything less than complete luxury.

He couldn’t exactly complain though. I was nice to rest in rooms which had a fully functional television set and a minibar that was at the proper temperature. Not to mention the springs on those large, luxurious beds were doing wonders to his back. He could be undead, but his body was not made of steel, and wrestling sometimes could get pretty messy.

He turned his attention to the door where Goldust vanished to when he heard noise, and then saw as Goldust pushed a cart into the bedroom, with a bottle, glasses, and a tray of strawberries on it.

Food. Why wasn’t he surprised?

Undertaker eyed the champagne bottle when Goldust pushed the cart closer to him.

“Did you not drink enough today?” He asked, picking up the bottle and pretending to read the label.

“Please! You really think I’m such a light-weight? I can handle my booze quite well, thank you very much!” Goldust said, getting the bottle from Undertaker’s hand and getting the corkscrew from the cart to open it. “And this here is fine stuff. After all, you don’t deserve anything but the very best.” Goldust smiled at Undertaker, as he got the cork out.

Undertaker let out a small laugh, shaking his head as he watched Goldust pour the champagne inside the glasses. It was a lot easier to feel more at ease when they were in private and alone like that.

Goldust handed one of the glasses to Undertaker, all smiles. “I think we need to make a toast.”

“Toast? For?”

“Hmm… How about for us? And that… whatever it is we have going here lasts?” Goldust asked, raising his glass some.

“Good to me.” Undertaker said as the glasses clinked against each other. As he took a sip from his drink, Goldust leaned to place a kiss on his lips.

“Now that we got our toast ready, here…” Goldust said, grabbing the bottle and placing it on the bedside table, and then getting the tray of strawberries and setting it on the bed, lying on it right after. “Come here~” He said, tapping the open spot on the other side of the bed with his hand.

Undertaker eyed the bed and Goldust for a second, then walked up to take his place on the other side, right after taking off his shoes. It had come to a point where he learned not to question just where Goldust was trying to get with his actions.

Almost as soon as he was lying on the bed, a strawberry was hovering near his lips, and he looked at Goldust with an almost incredulous look.

“C’moooon, don’t pretend you don’t like that.” Goldust said, touching Undertaker’s bottom lip with the tip of the strawberry.

Undertaker hated… well, not really hated, but he disliked being fed like that. It made him feel like some dumb kid who didn’t know how to eat on his own. And yet, the moment Goldust put that strawberry to his lips, he opened them without even thinking twice, and just realized what he was doing when the sweet and tangy taste got to his tongue. Goldust had such a talent to make him act like fool with so little effort.

Goldust chuckled, watching Undertaker eat. It was always satisfying to see Undertaker lower his defenses and allow them to be this, well, silly. It made Goldust all giddy and warm inside, and it made him appreciate the deadman more and more.

“See, it wasn’t that bad~” Goldust teased, taking a sip from his drink before giving more of the strawberry to the other man.

When they were around the third strawberry – and around the who knows how many kisses to Undertaker’s neck and ear – the deadman decided to speak up.

“Was that your plan? Pamper me with strawberries and champagne?” He asked with a soft smile.

“It was part of it, yes…” Goldust trailed off, finally a little dizzy from all the booze in his system, as he leaned for another kiss to Undertaker’s neck, this time lingering a little longer than before, and he could feel Undertaker shudder when he grazed his teeth against the other’s pale skin.

“And… what is the next part?” Undertaker said as he placed his glass on the bedside table, right before placing his arm around Goldust’s waist to pull him closer.

“Don’t you wanna know…”Goldust breathed against Undertaker’s neck, his brain filled to the brim with all sorts of thoughts about the other man, and he wanted to enact every single one of them. But despite being drunk, he still had half a mind not to do so. He limited himself to move even closer to Undertaker, tangling his legs with the deadman’s while leaving a trail of kisses from his neck to his lips.

Undertaker barely hesitated to take Goldust’s mouth, kissing him in a way that made it look like he was waiting for it the whole night, and he most likely was.

Goldust buried his fingers on Undertaker’s hair, feeling those dark locks between them as he sighed inside the kiss. It made him so glad to see the other unwind.

They remained like that for a while, legs tangled, close together, enjoying long, wet kisses, with Goldust occasionally needing to break them for air, his hands sliding from Undertaker’s hair to his neck, caressing his still cold but warming skin, while Undertaker’s arms were wrapped around his body, keeping their bodi9es pressed against each other.

Moving on the bed, Goldust placed himself partially on top of Undertaker, a leg placed between Undertaker’s, thigh rubbing slowly but firmly against the deadman’s groin, as they kept on kissing, and his hands worked on the buttons of Undertaker’s shirt.

With his head spinning, Undertaker showed little to no resistance to Goldust’s actions. And, ultimately, he didn’t want to. All that felt nice, warm and comfortable. It just felt like it was the right time for that to be happening.

Goldust felt his heart beating faster inside his chest as soon as he got the last button out of the way, before dragging his nails over Undertaker’s torso ever so slowly, watching him let out a muffled noise inside the kiss.

“Hmm… what was that? I couldn’t hear you?” Goldust spoke slowly, his nails running down the deadman’s body again and he heard Undertaker swear under his breath in that low, almost raspy voice he had whenever he was being driven up the wall. The voice Goldust loved to hear from him. The same way he loved to feel Undertaker push his hips against his thigh, the same way he did back on that dingy, old house.

Undertaker could feel his cheeks flush as Goldust pushed his buttons further, and could feel warmth spread all over his body whenever that thigh between his legs ground ever so slowly but just the right way to get his body to shudder. He gripped at Goldust’s waist with his hands, unconsciously urging the other to move faster by pulling him closer and pushing him away.

“Are you feeling good, my dear?” Goldust placed kisses all over Undertaker’s face, before moving to his ear to nib and suckle on the earlobe, as one of his hands moving to pinch and pull one of Undertaker’s nipples between his fingers.

“Y-Yes…” Undertaker was able to stutter out, feeling his grip on Goldust’s waist get stronger, and he was pretty sure he was close to ripping the other’s shirt with how tight his grip was.

Goldust chuckled, letting go of Undertaker’s nipple to playfully run his fingers down his stomach, playing with the band of his pants when he got near the deadman’s waist. “You are getting so hard, baby… I like that.” He purred, circling Undertaker’s navel with the tip of his finger.

There was a groan from Undertaker. It was both embarrassing and arousing to hear those words. It was a first for him, and the way Goldust said them just got his whole body to be even more responsive to his touches and actions. And it got even more intense when Goldust shifted around to straddle his hips, and he could feel the bulge in Goldust’s pants rubbing against his own clothed cock.

Dipping down to kiss the deadman again, with both his hands resting on Undertaker’s bare chest, Goldust felt a rush all over his body. It was unlike anything he ever felt when he was with someone else. Was that because there was so much build up to being with Undertaker in an intimate situation? It could very well be that. He lost track of how long he had to wait for something like that to happen between them, and now that he started he was finding it quite hard to stop. Sure, if Undertaker said anything, he would stop on the spot. He would be heavily frustrated, yes, but he would still respect the deadman’s choice. Although he doubted that Undertaker would ask for that, judging by how his hips were hitching up and how he was helplessly moaning inside the kiss.

As he broke the kiss to get some air, Goldust chuckled as he sat up, still straddling Undertaker’s hips. “You look gorgeous…” He let out with a soft sigh, hands running up and down the deadman’s arms, before moving them to unbutton his own shirt.

He was a little surprised when Undertaker grabbed his wrists though, and looked down at him with a puzzled look.

“Let me…” Undertaker was able to mutter before moving on to fumble with Goldust’s buttons a little nervously, unbuttoning them in a less than charming manner, but managing to get the job done.

Goldust looked down at Undertaker’s hands and couldn’t help but giggle. How could someone be so big and intimidating and yet so adorably sweet? It was something beyond his comprehension.

Undertaker got all the buttons undone before moving his hands to slide the shirt out of Goldust’s shoulders, and the silk like material slid down his arms very easily.

“Thank you for helping me with that~” Goldust said, placing his hands on Undertaker’s face and kissing him again, but this time it wasn’t a deep long kiss. It was more like a peck on the deadman’s lips.

Goldust’s skin still felt considerably hotter against Undertaker’s, but it was clear that the deadman’s whole body had warmed up considerably, and the more Goldust pushed his hips against his own, the warmer and more flushed he got. His hands that were once gripping at the other’s waist were now caressing his bare back, leaving soft scratch marks here and there, which caused Goldust to sigh and moan softly against Undertaker’s neck.

At some point, Goldust thought his imagination was playing tricks on him, but he noticed Undertaker had, in fact, a hand on his thigh, and that just gave him more motivation to keep on going. He pushed his hips more intently, and could feel Undertaker’s cock twitch under the fabric of his pants, and he honestly just wanted to rip those pants off the deadman’s body and do everything his mind was screaming at him to do.

_All in due time, all in due time…_ Goldust thought to himself in a brief moment of clarity among his arousal, as he placed kisses all over Undertaker’s collarbone, while sometimes sinking his teeth on the curve of his neck.

Undertaker was just straight up dizzy from all the stimuli all over his body, and he barely noticed Goldust’s hands working on the buttons of his pants. The only thing he felt was a warm hand pressed against his erection, which caused him to gasp and push his hips against the touch, letting out something unintelligible under his breath.

Goldust felt his face flush even more as his fingers wrapped around Undertaker’s cock. Good God he was… thick. And big. He could only imagine how it would feel to have Undertaker inside him, thrusting into him and stretching in just the right way… That thought alone was enough to get Goldust harder, as he stroke Undertaker slowly, trying to feel every single detail of the deadman’s erection under the palm of his hand.

Almost whimpering, Undertaker moved his hips to meet Goldust’s touches, as he gripped on the sheets under him. The embarrassment he was feeling earlier was long gone inside the fog of craving inside his mind. He wanted more, needed more… And why was Goldust giving it to him so slowly? It was driving him insane.

The sounds coming from Undertaker’s lips and the look of absolute abandon upon his face were hypnotizing to Goldust, so much that he almost did not register what happened next.

It was like something had snapped inside Undertaker’s head. Something that was long dormant inside him. Whatever it was, it made him roll on the bed with Goldust, switching their positions. Goldust found himself under the deadman, eyes staring down at him. And suddenly his pants and underwear were pulled down to his thighs, and the next thing he knew was that Undertaker’s cock was rubbing against his, hot and twitching, while Undertaker had a firm grip on both his thighs, keeping his legs open.

Goldust squirmed and moaned under the deadman, panting loudly. He was surprised, not only due to Undertaker’s sudden actions, but by his own reactions. They were just frotting, and yet it felt like Undertaker was fucking him silly, as he searched for some stability by gripping on Undertaker’s back, leaving strong scratch marks all over it.

Undertaker pushed himself against Goldust, vision foggy as he groaned a little louder than he would like to, his grip on the other’s thighs getting so strong that was sure to leave a mark. He didn’t quite care. He was too far gone to care, and the way Goldust moaned out his name between cries of pure pleasure just got him even more distant.

It took a way shorter time than Goldust anticipated for him to orgasm, his back arching as his cock twitched, hot spurts spreading all over his stomach. When was the last time he came this quick? And this strongly? Not that he could think about any of those things with how foggy his mind was at the moment. The only things he could register were his heavy panting and Undertaker’s hard erection still rubbing against his twitching one.

A few moments later, Undertaker felt a stronger twitch on his cock, and it felt like there was a knot on the bottom of his stomach, followed by the feeling of his knees getting weak. When it felt like his knees were ready to give in, he came, hard, his cum getting all over Goldust’s stomach, almost all the way to his chest. The sound which escaped his lips at that moment, Undertaker wasn’t aware of the fact that he could let out such a lewd, long moan. It felt depraved and yet… It didn’t quite bother him as he thought it would.

As things began to simmer down, Undertaker began to go back to his senses, and his usual behavior began to set in, and when he noticed he was between Goldust’s legs, their softening cocks touching, and his hands firmly grabbing Goldust’s thighs, he moved away, face flushing, but this time out of sheer embarrassment and not pure arousal.

“I… I apologize…” Undertaker said, as he kneeled on the bed, still more or less in between the other’s legs, fumbling with his fingers.

“Hm?” Goldust muttered, still quite short on breath. “What are you… apologizing about?”

“I do not know what took me over I just…” Undertaker started, but stopped when he heard Goldust laugh.

“Pleeeeease, you really think you need to apologize for this?” Goldust smiled, licking his lips. “Not sure if you noticed it, but I enjoyed it very much~”

“I-I am glad…” Undertaker said, suddenly switching back to his usual, more contained self.

“And, you seem to have enjoyed yourself quite a lot…” Goldust said, grinning as he ran his fingers down his stomach, getting some of their cum on their tips. “You look even prettier when turned on.” He mentioned, before licking his fingers.

Undertaker wanted to take his eyes out of Goldust’s figure, but he found it hard to do that. He just looked very appealing to the eyes splayed out like that, with eyes half opened and his chest rising and falling at short intervals.

Goldust eyed Undertaker’s body for a moment, then grinned even wider. “Can’t wait for the day when I get **that** inside of me…” He said, eyes clearly fixated on the deadman’s groin.

Looking down, Undertaker realized his cock was still out of his pants and underwear, and was quick to fix that, avoiding looking at Goldust’s face as he chuckled.

“You are… so downright adorable.” Goldust said, moving on the bed to sit up. As for me, I’m going to take a nice shower. You are free to join me if you want to~” Goldust winked at Undertaker.

“I… Thank you, but I will pass.” Undertaker said, swallowing dryly.

“Well, your loss.” Goldust said with a dismissive shrug, still smiling as he got up and walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

For the longest time, Undertaker stayed there, kneeling on the bed, thinking. Just… what even happened? Why did he sudden behave like that? He was glad Goldust wasn’t mad at all but… It wasn’t like him to be like that. Not that he didn’t enjoy himself. It felt great. Wonderful even, but… where did that come from?

Whatever it was, Undertaker would make sure not to let himself go like that again. Goldust was already impulsive enough for the both of them. Someone had to be the voice of reason in that relationship, right?

… Right?


	19. Almost Pillow Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I wanted to focus on their conversation more than anything else. Next chapter will have more things happening, but I think this chapter has a lot of important things you guys shouldn't misssss!

Somehow, Undertaker got convinced to stay the night over at Goldust’s room. Despite the deep embarrassment from his actions, he figured it would be rather rude to up and leave Goldust there, not to mention he could use a few moment lying about to think about just what happened. Wasn’t exactly easy to concentrate on his thoughts, with one of Goldust’s arms draped over him, and his soft, warm breathing against the skin of his neck, but he tried his best. Undertaker also had to admire Goldust’s skills at falling asleep almost immediately after such an eventful evening.

Undertaker didn’t quite know what to make out of the whole situation. There was no use denying he had some sort of attraction to Goldust, but he couldn’t quite grasp his sudden change in behavior. Just two days before he was limiting himself to kisses and soft caresses, and suddenly he didn’t hesitate getting on top of Goldust and…

He flushed some, letting out a quiet sigh. Not that it didn’t make him feel good. It did. While he was there, so close to the other, it was as if nothing else mattered, like whatever weight was on his shoulders was gone. The only thing he could feel was the enveloping warmth of Goldust’s body, the only thing he could hear were those heavy, breathed out moans and words, only see those lips parted and that back arching…

Shaking his head, Undertaker tried to think of something else that didn’t involve how Goldust looked when aroused. It was a bit hard, as the image was etched into his brain and it would take a while for him to not stray back to it, but he had to try.

Either way, it was still intriguing, his shift in behavior. The way he completely lost control. He assumed that was how desire worked, as he never truly felt like that towards anyone. Maybe his whole body, despite not fully alive, still had dormant, human cravings which had to be satisfied. Cravings he never bothered to fulfill when he was alive, let alone after he “died”. And now that his body and mind found an outlet to please his needs, they both worked together to attain it, his own morals be damned.

He figured he should try talking to Goldust once he got to wake up. It felt like there was something missing between the moment Goldust stepped out of the shower and went back to bed, this strange silence among them. It wasn’t the type of uncomfortable, awkward silence, but Undertaker had the impression something was amiss, despite never being in such a situation before.

Waiting for Goldust to wake up was a long, boring process, and at times Undertaker felt the urge to lightly shake the other man awake to speed things up, but one glance upon Goldust’s face was enough for him to change his mind. The peaceful look he had on his face while resting was just… Undertaker just couldn’t bring himself to disrupt that.

Light was already slipping through the binds of the window when Goldust finally stirred by Undertaker’s side, and the deadman grew expectant, a little nervous even. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say, despite having an entire night to come up with something. Maybe if he didn’t get lost in other thoughts along the way he could have something prepared.

Goldust mumbled under his breath, something that was barely an entire word, arm tightening around Undertaker’s body.

There was another mumble, and Goldust opened his eyes slightly, the faint light inside the room already too much for them. He had no idea what time it was, or how long he had been sleeping, but it clearly didn’t feel like he had been asleep enough.

“‘Mornin...” He muttered, burying his face on Undertaker’s neck to hide his eyes from the light.

“Morning.” Undertaker replied, not sure what to do next.

“Heh… You didn’t run away...” Goldust sighed softly, a funny feeling inside his chest. In a way he expected Undertaker to quietly slip away in the middle of the night, not out of rudeness but sheer embarrassment, but there he was, lying by his side, and Goldust was just glad he was still there.

“No. I did not.” Undertaker a little hesitantly placed a hand on top of Goldust’s arm, brushing his fingers against warm skin.

“I guess you really like me then~” Goldust said almost playfully, still sounding a little sleepy, as he placed a kiss on Undertaker’s neck.

“I… I guess.” It was weird to say it out loud, because it wasn’t something he was used to, but yes. Undertaker had developed a lot of fondness for Goldust in the past months they were together.

Goldust moved away from Undertaker, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, hoping to get some of the sleep away from them. He darted a glance to the side, to where Undertaker was lying, shirtless and with his hair still a bit messy from the night before, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

Undertaker looked at the other with a puzzled look, not sure what he was laughing about.

“I wouldn’t mind waking up to the sight of you like this every other morning.” Goldust commented, falling back on the bed before placing a hand behind his head.

There was a brief moment where Undertaker nervously looked to the side, at the wall. He knew exactly what Goldust was implying with that. Didn’t take a genius to figure out. And at the same time the thought was appealing to him, he was still trying to come to terms with what happened the night prior.

Speaking of which…

“I am not sure of what happened last night.” He finally said, eyes finally back on Goldust’s figure lying by his side.

“Hm? What you mean?” Goldust asked, and now he was the one a little puzzled.

“What I did. The way I acted. I did not know I could… Did not know I had it in me.” Undertaker didn’t quite know how to put what he wanted to say in words.

“You saying you don’t understand why you felt the sudden urge to get on top of me and make me yours?” Goldie said, as blunt as ever, and watched in amusement as Undertaker looked away again, checks lightly red.

“I am aware you told me not to apologize, and I did enjoy myself… You… I find myself very attracted to you.” Undertaker spoke up, and he was pretty sure he was making little to no sense, by just saying the first things that came to his mind, but he wasn’t in the proper mindset to string together coherent thoughts.

Goldust blinked a few times. It wasn’t exactly a surprise to find out Undertaker was attracted to him, but it was a surprise to hear the deadman admit it out loud.

“Heh… So you **do** like me!” Goldust said, wrapping an arm around Undertaker’s chest and planting a kiss on his cheek, nuzzling his neck right after. “You big softie!”

Undertaker felt like saying that Goldust was being silly, ridiculous even, but decided against it. For some reason, he didn’t want to disrupt the moment between them. Instead, he decided to pass an arm around the other man’s body, pulling him a little closer, much to Goldust’s surprise.

Goldust sighed, twirling a small strand of Undertaker’s hair with his finger. He loved everything that happened the night before, and the deadman’s assertiveness just got him even more hooked up. He thought it was quite curious, how of all the people he ever got involved with, the one to get him the most enthralled was a shy, awkward undead guy. Life sure was full of strange twists and turns.

As he twirled Undertaker’s hair, a thought went by his mind and he chuckled, which caught the deadman’s attention.

“Hm? What is it?” Undertaker asked.

“You… never told me you were a red head…” Goldust smirked.

There were a few seconds of silence, as Undertaker tried to understand why Goldust made that comment, until his mind went back to the night before, and how Goldust sized him while he was pretty much fully exposed. He instantly felt his cheeks flush, shifting on the bed a little.

“Did not think it was relevant.” Undertaker said.

“Don’t worry, I enjoyed finding that out the way I did.” Goldust said, moving to place a kiss on Undertaker’s lips. “I bet you would look just lovely with a head full of pretty red hair.” He tried to imagine the deadman without his trademark raven hair, and it was a bit hard to do, since he was already so used to it.

“I just enjoy having it dyed like this.” Undertaker commented.

“It looks good on you. Makes you all dark and mysterious. It’s probably what you are aiming for, isn’t it?” Goldust asked, moving his hand so he could trace Undertaker’s tattoos with the tips of his fingers. He sure liked those, and how it made Undertaker look even more ‘menacing’.

“Kind of.” Undertaker never really thought it that way, but now Goldust mentioned it, his change in hair color was probably an unconscious effort to seem more intimidating.

There was a moment of quietness between them, with Goldust tracing Undertaker’s tattoos for a while, and Undertaker mindlessly drawing small circles on Goldust’s back.

“… ‘Taker… Can I ask you a thing?” Goldust asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Yes?” Undertaker replied, moving to scratching the end of Goldust’s back softly.

“… What’s your name?”

“Hm? My name?” Undertaker asked, clearly intrigued.

“Yes. Your real name. I’m sure your parents didn’t name you Undertaker.” Goldust said, tapping his fingers on the deadman’s chest.

His name… When was the last time he told anyone his name? Better yet, when was the last time anyone called him by his name? It felt like it was ages ago. He wondered why Goldust wanted to know it, but it wasn’t like that was important.

“Cain.” Undertaker finally said.

“Cain? That’s pretty nice…” Goldust said. Based on that, he assumed Undertaker’s parents were very big on religion, to pick such a name for their son. And even though Goldust wasn’t very knowledgeable when it came to religious themes, the story of Cain and Abel came to his mind, and he thought it was almost funny Undertaker was named after the murderous brother. It kinda suited him, in a weird way.

“… What about you?” Undertaker asked.

“What about me?” Goldust sounded confused.

“What is your name?”

“Why does it matter?” Goldust let out a small laugh. “There’s no need to know my name, dear. You don’t want to know about my boring, other self.” He continued, letting out a mocking yawn. “What you are seeing now is all you need to know.”

Undertaker considered pushing Goldust for an answer, but didn’t. He didn’t quite understand what the other meant by ‘boring other self’, because he found it hard to believe Goldust could behave in a much different way.

On the other hand, Goldust was glad Undertaker didn’t pry for more information. In a way, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about talking about his regular self. He found his Goldust persona was far more interesting and appealing, and that whoever he was outside of it could just stay hidden and forgotten.

“If you are saying…” Undertaker said, dropping the subject.

“Yes, I am saying!” Goldust said, pouting a bit and poking Undertaker lightly on the nose. “Now just kiss me, OK?” He smiled, dipping down to press his lips against Undertaker’s, before nibbling on his lower lip to motivate him to open his mouth.

Undertaker sighed in defeat, flicking the tip of his tongue against Goldust’s lips, and soon enough they were kissing, slowly, almost lazily, with Goldust petting Undertaker’s face the whole time.

Goldust moved away some, parting the kiss and looking down at Undertaker’s face.

“I sure am glad today is a Saturday. Maybe we can stay here in bed the whole day?” Goldust asked, tracing Undertaker’s lips with his thumb.

“Sounds good.” Undertaker replied, lips curving in a slight smile. He very much enjoyed that idea.

“I really like it when you smile.” Goldust said, placing a row of kisses all over Undertaker’s jaw, before going for his lips again.

That was going to be a good day, and both of them could already tell.


	20. Oscar Worthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, 300 days later, an update!
> 
> This chapter was supposed to contain smut, but then things got longer than I expected, and some points of the chapter got changed, so I'm saving the smut for the next chapter, lol
> 
> Also, this is me in super denial of Paul's canon betrayal!!! I can't HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF EVERYTHING BEING FINE.

If it wasn’t for Undertaker explicitly telling Bearer not to be rude towards Goldust, Paul would have told him to scram the moment he opened the door and saw his stupid golden clad figure standing there.

To have Goldust knocking at the door of his room was, unfortunately, something Paul was already getting used to. Ninety nine percent of the time he would show up looking for Undertaker though, to take him who knows where – and Paul was certainly not interested in knowing what they were up to when together. This time, however, was one of those rare one percent moments where Goldust was there to talk to the smaller man instead, with Marlena right by his side.

“Ah, so glad you didn’t turn us down immediately! I have something to discuss, which might be of interest to you.” Goldust said, offering Paul a small bow.

Paul eyed Goldust suspiciously. He didn’t enjoy being in his presence, specially when Undertaker was not around, but he figured Goldust was a little too interested in his protegee to pose any kind of danger. Whether or not Goldust was going through all this effort to manipulate Undertaker, Paul felt he wasn’t going to jeopardize everything by hurting or even intimidating the only person Goldust knew for sure Undertaker cared for.

“Alright.” Paul begrudgingly stepped away from the door, giving way for Goldust and Marlena to get inside, and quickly closed the door after they went through it. He didn’t need anyone asking later what those two were doing in his room.

“Thank you so much, darling. I promise I won’t take much of your time, as I know you are a busy man.” Goldust started, as he took a seat on a nearby couch, while Marlena stood next to him, cigar between her fingers as she looked around. “Now, I’ve been noticing that your lovely client has been into a quite heated rivalry against Mankind, yes?”

“Yes. That demented… thing seems to be attacking my Undertaker at every opportunity he gets, ambushing him and just… I don’t know why he latched on to him, but it seems like the more my Undertaker hits him, the more determined he gets.” Bearer sounded on the verge of frustration, gesticulating nervously as he spoke.

“He’s kind of like that, yes. I do have a degree of… familiarity with Mankind, you see. He seems to trust me, and I am happy to be on his good side.” Goldust said, almost too casually.

Paul had to fight back the urge to mention that, yes, obviously Goldust would get along with Mankind, as they were both totally nuts, but refrained to do so. He was trying his best to be at least a little polite towards Goldust.

“I’ve been thinking, as interesting as it is to watch Undertaker punch Mankind on a weekly basis, I would appreciate not seeing Mankind too badly hurt, and I think that their story needs a little shake up.” Goldust crossed his legs, leaning back on the couch. “A good story can’t stay stagnant like that, or people will start to lose interest. Because, you see Bearer, wrestling isn’t unlike a movie, and a movie has to have a gripping plot to entertain its audience, otherwise it’s just a giant, boring flop.”

There was a head tilt from Paul. “What are you going on about?”

“Eh? Oh, Bearer, I thought you were sharper than that, sweetie.” Goldust laughed to himself, casually running his fingers through the strands of his wig. “What I’m saying is that this story between Mankind and your protege needs a much needed twist.”

“… Twist?” Bearer raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Right now, what Undertaker and Mankind have going on is a very predictable pattern, as erratic as Mankind’s behavior is.” Goldust started explaining. “Sure, there’s the excitement of not knowing when and where he’s going to strike next, but after a while this is going to go stale, so we need to do something interesting now, to prevent that from happening.”

“And I imagine you have the _perfect_ solution, yes?” Paul said, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. Why Goldust had to equate everything to theatrics?

“Absolutely! They are set up to have that boiler room brawl later this week, as Summerslam, isn’t that right?” Goldust asked.

“Yes, that’s correct.” Paul replied, arms still crossed while he gave Goldust an inquiring look.

“Well, that in itself is already outside the box. I like it. But we gotta go a step further, if you ask me. What would you say is the last thing people would expect in this upcoming match?” Goldust asked, already knowing what Paul would say.

“I believe you are referring to the fact that Undertaker is yet to lose to Mankind in a ‘fair’ fight.” Emphasis on fair. The only times Mankind prevailed against the deadman was through ambushes and mostly dirty tactics, which to Bearer didn’t count as “wins”.

“Indeed!” Goldust said, a smile on his lips.

“You are not suggesting I let Undertaker lose against that… that...” Paul began to stammer, but Goldust gestured at him to stop.

“Oh no, no. You got it all wrong Bearer, darling. I’m not here to suggest you make your lovely client simply give Mankind a win. That would be far too boring. Like I said, we gotta go a step further.”

“… And what does that entail?” Paul raised an eyebrow, a little suspicious of the wide smile plastered on Goldust’s lips.

“I sure am glad you asked!” Goldust clasped his hands together, and proceeded to explain what he had in mind. And slowly, but surely, as he described his plan, making sure to present it in a very appealing manner to stroke Bearer’s ego, he could see the shorter man was growing more and more interested in his words.

By the end, Paul was thoroughly convinced, and even managed to smile at Goldust’s words, which was a first.

“I must say, this is all very interesting.” Bearer paused for a moment. “But are you certain you’ll be able to get Mankind to… understand all this?”

“Trust me, dear. He’s a lot smarter than he looks, once you give him a chance.” Goldust gave Paul a playful wink, which caused the older man’s smile to falter completely. He had almost forgotten who he was talking to, but Goldust was sure to remind him.

“Well then, as long as you keep your word, I’ll make sure to talk to my Undertaker about all this.” It would be… hard trying to convince the deadman it was a good idea to lose a match, since Undertaker didn’t exactly took losses all that well, but hopefully mentioning all this was Goldust’s idea would be enough to change his mind. For better or worse, Undertaker seemed to trust him.

When Summerslam rolled in, the main topic among the crowd - and even at backstage – was Undertaker’s match against Mankind. A boiler room match was a novel concept. Something no one had tried before, and everyone was very intrigued as to what was going to happen. As strong as Undertaker was, Mankind was very resilient and very stubborn, so it was never easy for the deadman to take him down, and no one knew if that change of scenario would benefit either of them.

As Undertaker prepared himself for the match, he heard a knock on the door, and before he could even say something, the door clicked open and he heard a familiar chuckle.

“Ready, sweetie?” Goldust said, smiling as he fidgeted with his fingers.

“You seem nervous.” Undertaker said, looking down at Goldust’s hands.

“Babe, I’m just a _wreck_! Look!” Goldust grabbed one of Undertaker’s hands and placed it over his chest. “My heart is pounding! And not because I just stepped out of a match.”

The deadman shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. “You are not even involved in this.”

“I’m not involved? Excuse me, but I came up with this whole plan, and if it blows up, it’s blowing up right on my face!” Goldust said, pretending to be offended by Undertaker’s words. “Besides, if anything goes wrong your darling manager is going to blame all this on me.”

“He will not. … I hope it goes well either way.” Undertaker said, moving his hand from Goldust’s chest to his neck.

“It will! I mean, I am nervous, but you all know what to do.” He was able to get Mankind to understand the plan fully, which was easier than expected. Specially when Mankind was told he was going to win a match in front of thousands. He could have a few screws loose, but he definitely wasn’t stupid.

Undertaker nodded, moving to get his hat, which was sitting on a nearby table.

“I can’t give you a good luck kiss, but...” Goldust kissed the tip of his index finger and then placed it on top of Undertaker’s lips, winking at him. “You’ll do great. And we’ll be sure to celebrate afterwards~”

A very faint shade of red got to Undertaker’s cheeks and he nodded quickly, putting on his hat before he walked up to the door, exiting the room. Goldust chuckled, heart still pounding a bit. He couldn’t wait to watch everything unfold, and see the reaction on people’s faces. If everything went right, their looks would be priceless.

Goldust went back to his room, finding Marlena sitting on the couch, a TV set near it.

“It’s about to begin. Where were you? Wishing him good luck on a rigged match?” Marlena smirked.

“It’s not ‘rigged’. It’s just cleverly orchestrated.” Goldust said, sitting by her side and grabbing the bottle of wine that was on the small table nearby. “Now be a darling and grab those glasses for me.” He asked as he opened the bottle.

“We are already breaking out the booze? Without even knowing the result?” Marlena asked, picking up the glasses.

“This is not for celebration. I just want to enjoy some fine wine in your company, while I watch my plan unfold.” Goldust said, pouring the wine in the glasses.

“I hope you are aware you sound like a movie villain.” Marlena commented, giving Goldust one of the drinks to Goldust, as he put the bottle away.

“If I am the evil mastermind, then you are my gorgeous, yet deadly right hand.” Goldust laughed to himself, taking a quick sip from his glass. “Now, let the show begin!”

The match between Mankind and Undertaker took a long time, and everyone was clearly on the edge of their seats while they watched, Goldust included. He even stopped talking at some point, eyes glued to the screen as he paid attention to every move and action from the men fighting, and every reaction from the expectant crowd. He wasn’t even up there fighting, but it almost felt like he was.

At some point he even caught himself chewing on his nails from all the nervousness, and shook his head, getting up all of sudden.

“What’s wrong?” Marlena asked.

“I… look, I’ll be back soon.” Goldust said, putting down his glass and walking out of his room before Marlena could ask further questions, walking down to the hallway he knew Undertaker and Mankind would pass by. He just couldn’t stand only watching the whole thing on a screen. He had to see it up close.

The place was a mess, with the other wrestlers on the sideways shouting and gesturing at them as they passed by, urging Mankind and Undertaker to give their all, to pretty much “destroy” each other. Goldust watched from one of the doors, anxiety clear upon his face.

Everything was going fine, but he could swear his heart was about to escape out his throat when he watched Undertaker stagger down the aisle in the direction of the door that lead to the ring. When they were both out of his sight, he sighed and walked back to his room as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to miss a single detail from that event.

The moment he stepped inside, Marlena spoke to him.

“So, went to watch it in person, hm”

“Hm? How did you...” Goldust asked, as he walked to the couch to sit down again.

“The camera caught you, sweetie. I knew you wouldn’t resist taking a closer look at your work.” Marlena said in a playful manner, watching Goldust pout.

“Well, sorry if I’m passionate about my projects...”

“There, there, darling. Let’s keep watching your ‘beautifully orchestrated’ match.” Marlena chuckled, petting Goldust on the head.

Goldust let out a huff of air, pout quickly dissolving thanks to the headpats, as he watched Mankind and Undertaker lashing at each other, as they made their way to the ring, both of them trying to get up on it first. Until Mankind dropped down back first on to the concrete floor.

When Undertaker stepped inside the ring, there was no hesitation from him when he approached Paul, looking right at him, giving him a knowing look.

Bearer paused for a second, watching the deadman kneel down on the floor, hands outstretched. He clutched the urn, heart speeding up a bit as the crowd cheered on Undertaker, demanding he gave the deadman the urn. Undertaker got up when the wait for the urn became too long, ready to ask Paul for an explanation, until Mankind surprised him from behind.

As Bearer laughed at the sight of his protegee being attacked, Goldust couldn’t help but shake his head, a smile on his lips.

“Look at that egotistical bastard. He’s loving all this.” He said with a sigh. He had to admit, Paul was a far better actor than he expected.

Then, suddenly, Paul began hitting Undertaker with the help of Mankind, causing everyone’s eyes to widen and some gasp in shock and disbelief.

Goldust all but screamed in his room as he watched, quickly moving to cover his mouth with his hand, then turning to look at Marlena, who gave him a slight confused look.

“Good grief! Is that… is that what they decided to do? I just told Bearer to not give him the urn, I was not expecting… all that!” Goldust looked back at the screen, everyone seemed completely at a loss, as the commentators tried to make sense of what was happening.

It was actually bizarre to see Bearer hit Undertaker. With how protective he was of the deadman, Goldust never imagined such a thing. But… he was the one who said they needed to take it one step beyond, right? All that just made the whole thing that more believable.

Still, it felt surreal to watch.

And it was even more surreal when Paul hit Undertaker smack dab in the middle of the head with the urn, causing him to completely fall down to the ground, as Paul moved on to hand the urn to Mankind.

Everyone was in shock, appalled, and a silence fell on the crowd as everyone looked at each other and at the ring, asking themselves what just happened.

Paul walked back to the backstage with Mankind close to him, under insults and angry eyes, and… it wasn’t exactly bad. All eyes were on him, and it was actually a little exciting. He didn’t expect a plan hatched by Goldust to go down this well, and yet… Maybe he had misjudged the other man this whole time. Maybe Undertaker was right when he said there was more to Goldust than his perverted facade.

Goldust couldn’t help but laugh to himself when the druids showed up to retrieve Undertaker’s “body”.

“Oh my… Paul took the ‘step beyond’ thing a little too seriously, didn’t he?” It was… so absurd and yet, it fit Undertaker’s persona really well. “I gotta congratulate him on all this. He went way above my expectations!”

When all was said and done, and Undertaker found himself sitting inside his room with Bearer laughing to himself and Mankind sitting in the corner of the room clutching the urn, there was a small knock on the door before Goldust and Marlena got inside, with Goldust clapping excitedly.

“Bravo! Bravo! That was beautiful! I almost teared up, you know, when Undertaker was crawling up at you, begging you to give him the urn.” Goldust said, walking up to Bearer and shaking his hand. “And I have to say, the druids? Wonderful touch! Where did you even get that idea?”

“Actually… I was the one who suggested it.” Undertaker said, voice quiet.

Goldust spun on his heels to look at the deadman, a chuckle escaping from his lips. “Hah! I’m not surprised you added that touch of macabre to it. It was gorgeous though, simply wonderful.” He walked up to Mankind, patting him on the head and ruffling his hair. “And you did great too, darling. Such viciousness!”

Mankind looked up at Goldust, eyes sparkling as he shook from side to side excitedly, almost like an energetic dog being praised by its owner. Undertaker watched the scene from the corner of his eyes, tapping his fingers on his lap.

Marlena whispered something inside Goldust’s ear, and he switched his attention from Mankind to Undertaker. “Now, Bearer dear, if you don’t mind, I’ll steal your client for a couple hours.” He said, walking up to Undertaker and picking one of his hands up.

Out of sheer reflex, Paul almost let his smile falter and his nose wrinkle at the prospect of Undertaker mingling with Goldust but… He didn’t.

“Well, just remember he needs to be here tomorrow for RAW.” Paul said, and Undertaker noticed he was uncharacteristically polite to Goldust.

“Yes, sir!” Goldust gave Paul a mocking salute, and grabbed Undertaker’s hand, smiling at him and pulling him up from his seat, guiding him to the door.

He opened it, peeked outside and, taking the chance that the hallway was somewhat empty, got out of the room with the deadman right behind him, and they scurried off to the back of the building, with Goldust giggling the whole way. It was a little fun, having a secret relationship with Undertaker and doing his very best to hide it away from prying eyes. He was sure one day everyone in the locker rooms was going to catch up on their escapades, but for now, he was enjoying the thrill of keeping everything under wraps. He was lucky most of other wrestlers were always too caught up on their own affairs to pay attention to stuff happening around them.

When they reached the outside of the building, Goldust wrapped his arms around Undertaker’s neck, planting kisses all over his lips.

“You did so well, dear! A real actor, I must say!” Goldust complimented the deadman, eyes sparkling.

“… My head hurts.” Undertaker finally spoke up, eyes looking a little more tired than usual.

Goldust finally snapped out of his daze and noticed just how spent the deadman was, with shoulders slightly slumped and half lidded eyes.

“Heh… Mankind took things a little too seriously, didn’t he?” Goldust said, passing an arm around Undertaker’s and guiding him to the sidewalk so he could haul a cab for them. “I saw how he was kicking your head, looked pretty rough. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you and that nasty headache, and all your other sore spots~”

Undertaker nodded, watching the cars pass by them, spacing out a little. During the match, he was so caught up in the moment and so focused on what he had to do and how to do it, he barely noticed how tiring and demanding the whole fight was. He was so out of it he didn’t even pay much attention to Goldust’s slightly naughty tone as he spoke about taking care of him. His head was still banging, as if Mankind was still kicking it. He only snapped out of it when Goldust pulled him inside the cab.

On the way to the hotel, Undertaker knew Goldust was saying something. Probably congratulating him on the match, complimenting him, and he just nodded, and gave him a tired smile. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to think much. He registered something about showering and dinner, and it sounded good to him.

Goldust noticed Undertaker wasn’t exactly paying close attention to what he was saying, and decided to go quiet for the rest of the trip to the hotel. The deadman’s head was probably still trying to recover from all the blows it got that night, and Goldust didn’t want to aggravate the situation. Once he had time to rest, he could cover him in all the compliments and nice words.


	21. Setting It All Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 300 years after the last update, a new chapter.
> 
> Now, I expected the set up to what comes after this chapter to be a lot shorter than almost 3500 words, but it seems like this is just going to go on and on, so, to spare you from a ridiculously long chapter, I decided to split things up a bit.
> 
> Yes, this singular day of my fic is taking three chapters to get wrapped up. Amazing!

Goldust pretty much guided Undertaker by the hand when they stepped out of the cab and into the hotel’s lobby. He asked the deadman how he was feeling, and he just commented his head was still banging a little, but not as much as before. The quietness of the hotel was helping.

Undertaker was still thinking about all that happened just a few hours before, the whole theater between him, Bearer and Mankind. It was weird, to be punched by Paul like that. Felt really wrong. And he didn’t want to think about it too hard, since the older man was likely just playing his part, but he could swear Bearer was a little too enthusiastic about the whole thing, and smiled a little too genuinely.

He hoped it was just Paul’s ego getting a little over the edge, as it happened when he got a lot of attention.

Shaking his head to dismiss those thoughts, Undertaker followed Goldust into the elevator, and thought it was strange that Goldust was barely talking. He was likely tired too, and being considerate of Undertaker’s headache. The deadman appreciated it.

Undertaker was partially right about his assumption. Goldust was indeed trying to keep his mouth shut for the sake of the deadman’s brain, but he wasn’t tired at all. In fact, he felt like he could run a marathon any minute now. Maybe the adrenaline of his own match was still running strong, or he was still excited about watching Undertaker’s bout. Whatever was the reason, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon.

Their walk to Goldust’s room was quiet, aside from the humming from the ice machine by the end of the corridor and the faint sound of a TV set turned a little too loud inside one of the rooms. It was slightly late, and the hotel’s hallways were empty, and almost hauntingly silent.

Goldust unlocked the door and gave way for Undertaker to get inside first. He trailed after the deadman, closing the door with a click, then turning on his heels to catch Undertaker pretty much plopping down on the bed, hands on his lap.

“You look lovely when tired.” Goldust said, smiling, walking up to the deadman.

There was a small huff of air from Undertaker, as he felt his shoulders drop, the tension of the night finally washing away some.

“You probably should take a shower, it would help you.” Goldust suggested, still standing around next to the other man.

Undertaker eyed Goldust for a moment, a little suspiciously. He wasn’t sure if Goldust was being genuine about that, or if he was just trying to find a way to get him naked. Not that the later was completely out of question, but Undertaker wasn’t sure about just how motivated he was to do something like that.

“Maybe later.” Undertaker said, shifting his gaze away from the other man to the floor.

“Don’t be silly. If you do it later it isn’t going to help you none.” Goldust rolled his eyes. Why Undertaker had to be so stubborn?

Goldust stepped closer to Undertaker, and when the deadman saw the other’s shoes next to him, he leaned back a little, looking up at Goldust’s face.

“So?” Goldust asked, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“So…?” Undertaker raised an eyebrow.

“Are you taking that shower, or do I have to drag you to the bathroom?” Goldust’s eyes narrowed a bit.

“F-Fine…” Undertaker knew it was pointless trying to argue with Goldust on that, but when he moved to get up and go to the bathroom, he was stopped on his tracks by a hand on his chest. He couldn’t help but look at Goldust with a puzzled expression. Did he want him to go or not?

“Now, you are clearly tired, so the least I can do is help you out of these sweaty clothes~” Goldust almost purred, moving to rest a hand softly on the side of Undertaker’s face. A face which was now slightly tinted red.

“This is not nec-” Before Undertaker could go on a finger was placed on his lips.

“Don’t be silly. It’ll be a… _pleasure_.” Goldust chuckled, moving to kneel in front of Undertaker, which caused the deadman to get quite nervous. Just… what was Goldust doing?

Goldust shifted his attention to Undertaker’s shoes and spats, carefully unbuttoning the latter. Meanwhile Undertaker shifted his gaze from the floor to the man in front of him, cheeks warm as he crossed his arms. Goldust was a real piece of work when he wanted to.

As Goldust undid the buttons on Undertaker’s spats, he smiled to himself, thoughts dancing inside his mind as continued the task at hand. Most thoughts related to Undertaker’s legs, considering how close they were to his face.

“Your legs are lovely, dear. Have I mentioned this before?” Goldust asked, getting distracted from the buttons.

“Plenty of times, if I am not mistaken…” Undertaker could not understand Goldust’s fascination with his legs. It wasn’t exactly a bad thing, but it was unusual how he always made sure to mention it.

“They are just really pretty…” Goldust trailed off with a sigh, planting a kiss next to Undertaker’s calf. He always had an appreciation for legs, but the deadman’s were something else, with how long they were and with those thick thighs…

Undertaker felt his body stiffen a bit in response to the kiss, but not as much as he expected. Almost as if he was expecting that to happen.

“A shame they are covered almost all the time.” Goldust said, mostly to himself, as he completely forgot about the buttons and moved his hand to caress Undertaker’s thigh.

Feeling his body shudder for a moment in response to that, Undertaker closed his eyes for a second, lightly chewing on his bottom lip. Goldust’s hand felt very soft and warm, even through the fabric of his tights.

Goldust sighed happily as he moved his hand up and down Undertaker’s thigh, before planting a kiss near the deadman’s knee. Then another just a little higher. And another higher still. And before he realized it, he was tracing the inner side of Undertaker’s thigh with kisses, brushing his lips over the fabric covering them.

Undertaker let out a quite audible sigh, and almost involuntarily one of his hands moved to his mouth. He knew it was a little pointless now that the sigh was already out, and that didn’t exactly bother him, but it was more out of habit than anything.

Moving away a bit, Goldust chuckled to himself as he looked at the soft golden stains on Undetaker’s deep black tights. He wasn’t sure if his facepaint was easy to remove from fabric, so he could only hope the deadman had more than one pair of those. He moved his head to look up at Undertaker’s face with a smile.

“Heh… You are all red again.” He said, which apparently only got the other man even more flushed.

“This is… new.” Undertaker replied, looking away from Goldust’s gaze, as the hand he had over his mouth dropped to his lap.

“Alright, I’ll stop embarrassing you and help you out of these shoes.” Goldust gave one of Undertaker’s thighs a parting kiss, and went back to finishing undoing the buttons on the spats. He neatly discarded them to the side when they were fully unbuttoned, and gently removed the shoes from Undertaker’s feet.

The deadman let out a small sigh of relief. After walking around so much due to the boiler room match, his feet were actually tired, and he just realized how much he wanted to get rid of his shoes when they were taken off.

He watched Goldust get up from the floor and move to unbutton his shirt, softly placing a kiss on his forehead.

“I would offer to shower with you, but I know you’ll say it’s not ‘needed’ or something like that.” Goldust commented as he worked on the buttons.

“Maybe some… some other time.” Undertaker said, and he could swear he felt Goldust stop on his tracks for a split second, before his fingers kept on moving.

When the shirt was fully open, Goldust slid the fabric down Undertaker’s arms, deliberately brushing his fingers over the deadman’s cold skin. He folded the shirt and placed on the bedside table.

“I-I can take my pants off myself, t-thank you.” Undertaker said, even before Goldust could make a motion to move his hands to his waist, and heard a laugh, as he expected.

“Then I guess you are all ready for your shower.” Goldust said. “One of my bathrobes is in there. It might be a little short for you, but I think it’ll fit you overall. Just so you don’t have to put on the same sweaty clothes, yes?”

“Thank you.” Undertaker nodded and got up, moving to the bathroom in quick steps, closing the door behind him.

“I promise not to peek!” Goldust shouted from the bedside, and heard the click of the bathroom door being locked. He couldn’t help but grin to himself.

With a happy sigh, Goldust plopped down on the bed. Everything was going quite nice that night, and hopefully everything would continue to go well way into it, if he managed to get Undertaker properly relaxed. He took off his boots, placing them next to the deadman’s shoes, before unzipping his suit all the way to his navel. He was also in need of a shower.

Meanwhile, Undertaker was getting undressed inside the bathroom. He felt his face flush a bit as he thought back to Goldust kissing the inside of his thighs, and couldn’t help but think how that would feel if he didn’t have his tights on. It wasn’t like him to have such thoughts, but it seemed like he couldn’t help having them when he was around Goldust.

He shook his head, lips curving in a slight smile. All his natural hesitance and blushing aside, he genuinely enjoyed it when Goldust pushed his buttons. And almost subconsciously he hoped there was more of that after he showered. Before he moved to turn on the water, he reached for the bathrobe that was hanging on the door, feeling its material on the tip of his fingers. It felt very soft and delicate against the skin, and like almost everything that concerned Goldust, it looked expensive.

While Goldust busied himself with removing the last remains of paint from his face, he heard the water start running inside the bathroom. He stopped cleaning his face for a moment, focused on the sound while sitting there in silence, save for the faint sound of cars outside in the streets. He chewed on his black stained bottom lip for a moment, thinking about the water running down Undertaker’s body, down his large chest and long, gorgeous legs. Soaking his raven hair and dripping down his thick, tattooed arms.

Goldust shook his head, eyes shut tight. If he kept on thinking about that, there was no telling what he would do to the deadman when he stepped out of the bathroom. He quickly turned his attention back to his face, cleaning it up with a little more friction than necessary.

It was a little tricky for Undertaker to clean himself proper with the ridiculously small soap the hotel provided – he didn’t feel brave enough to use the many liquid soaps littered across the floor, as most of them smelled a little too strongly for his taste. It seemed like even if you paid extra for a nice room, they still gave you tiny soaps and hair products. At least Goldust seemed prepared to deal with such ordeal. A little too prepared.

He managed to make do with the soap though, and reached out for a towel when he cut off the water. He dried up quickly, and put on the robe. He stood there for a minute, looking down at it. It felt a little weird, to feel something so… sophisticated against his skin. It felt good, sure, but it almost felt like he didn’t belong inside that robe. Or inside that whole room for that matter.

As Goldust mentioned, the robe did fit his figure well overall, but its end reached around his knees. It did feel a little short, but he wasn’t particularly bothered by it.

He unlocked the door and stepped out the bathroom, scanning the room until he found Goldust sitting at the room’s desk, carefully brushing his wig.

“Ah, you are done!” Goldust said, trying very hard not to think about the fact that Undertaker was stark naked under that single layer of fine Italian cotton.

“Yes.” Undertaker replied, drying his hair still with the towel around his neck, doing his best not to seem too much out of place. “I suppose you were right, I was in need of a shower.”

“See, told you. Now it’s my turn to get all nice and wet~” Goldust said playfully as he carefully placed his wig on its stand on the desk, before getting up and walking to the bathroom with a small bundle of clothes on his arms, along with another bathrobe.

“… Did you plan this?” Undertaker asked, and Goldust stopped at the doorway, looking back at the deadman with a puzzled look.

“Planned?”

“I know you are the excessive type, but… two bathrobes.” Undertaker knew that even for someone like Goldust, it would be pointless to fill up space in a bag with another bathrobe. Space he could probably fill with toiletries and the sort.

Goldust looked down at his arms then looked up at the deadman with a smile. “Maybe~” And entered the bathroom, closing the door.

Undertaker rubbed the bridge of his nose before moving to sit on the edge of the bed to finish drying his hair.

During his shower, Goldust was careful to choose the proper fragrance of liquid soap to use. He didn’t want to overwhelm the deadman, but he also wanted to hopefully entrance him with a nice scent. He looked around the bottles until he found something he judged to be perfect for the occasion. He happily cleaned himself away, thinking about what could possibly be in store for them that night.

While the sound of running water filled the room, Undertaker found himself sitting on the bed, back against the head frame, watching the bathroom door with unusual interest, the towel he had around his neck now discarded on the floor.

As he expected, it took Goldust a long time to leave the bathroom, and when he finally emerged from the steam filled room, Undertaker was surely relieved. He didn’t know how long he would be able to stay “entertained” by playing with the belt of his robe. Despite his weird mannerisms, Goldust provided very good distraction, and was always able to fill any dead air with his constant talking about a variety of topics.

“Ta-da!” Goldust exclaimed when he stepped out the bathroom, body wrapped in a silky looking golden robe.

Undertaker studied the other man for a moment, and it was strange to see him like that, with absolutely no make-up on and without his long wig, with only a faint black coloring on his lips – Undertaker assumed he applied that on with the intent to leave markings on his skin, something Goldust seemed to be quite fond of. Aside from the black on his lips and the rather unique choice of color for his robe, Goldust looked almost… well, not like Goldust at all. He almost seemed like a regular person. Almost. They had been with each other a lot, but Goldust always seemed to make a point of keeping his lipstick and wig on at all times.

To Goldust, it was also strange to see Undertaker lying there, with a white robe on and nothing else. His pale skin blending with the clear color of the fabric. He was just so used to seeing the deadman in dark, black clothes, it was almost a little jarring to see him as the complete opposite. Not to say Goldust didn’t like that new look though.

Goldust dimmed the lights of the room before moving to the bed, plopping down on it and causing the springs on the mattress to bounce slightly.

“Ah, that shower surely hit the spot!” He said, lying down on the bed and lazily rolling to Undertaker’s side. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Just a little.” Undertaker looked at Goldust’s smiling face staring at him, and his eyes looked so different when not framed by thick black lines around them. They looked… gentle. Not that Goldust was anything but gentle to him when they were together, but Undertaker could finally see that in his eyes, and it was a little weird, yet comforting.

“You look gorgeous under dimmed lights, did you know that?” Goldust moved one of his hands and reached out to the side of Undertaker’s face, brushing his knuckles against the deadman’s cheek, as he scooted closer.

“You may have told me that before…” Undertaker’s attention shifted from Goldust’s eyes to those dark lips getting closer to his, and almost without thinking he leaned closer to them. As he did so, the scent coming from Goldust reached his nostrils, and he almost immediately recognized the smell.

Lavender.

In an instant, Goldust felt Undertaker’s arm wrap around his waist, which surprised him a little, but not as much as when the deadman took his lips in a kiss that didn’t take long to go from chaste to deep, with Undertaker’s tongue slipping it’s way inside his mouth with no hesitance. Goldust moved in closer as the deadman’s arm got tighter around his waist, and rested his hands on the other’s chest, fingers brushing against the soft cotton.

Just when the kiss was over with Undertaker finally realized he had more or less rolled on top of Goldust. He moved back with the intention to move away, but stopped midway to look at Goldust’s figure lying there on the bed under him, dark lips slightly smeared and with his eyes almost sparkling.

“Heh… What’s wrong? You are just staring.” Goldust chuckled, moving one of his hands to the back of Undertaker’s neck, while the other slipped under the other’s robe to touch his bare chest. He assumed his plan on using Undertaker’s favorite scent worked, judging by the deadman’s eagerness to kiss him.

“This is… just very different.” Undertaker said, not being able to find the proper words to describe the situation.

“You are acting like we were never intimate.” Goldust kept smiling, tapping his fingers on the back of Undertaker’s neck lightly.

“Still feels different.” Undertaker wasn’t sure why it felt like that. It wasn’t too long ago since they slept together in the true sense of the word, but in a way he kinda let himself get driven by feelings that time. This time, he was more poised, more in control like usual, and it was strange. It was like they were doing this for the first time all over again.

“Need me to call Nash here to insult me so you can get in the mood?” Goldust joked, and was happy to see Undertaker’s lips curve into a small smile.

“I would rather not.” Undertaker shook his head slowly, moving away to lie down next to Goldust.

“You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, right?” Goldust said, moving to lie on his side, tracing circles on the exposed part of the deadman’s chest.

There was silence for a moment, until Undertaker spoke up.

“Start. Then I will decide if I want it or not.” He decided it was better to leave it to Goldust to kick things off. As enticing as his smell of lavender was, it could only do so much to push him into being more assertive.

Goldust blinked a few times. Start? Well, he would need to make a quick change of plans now. He assumed appealing to Undertaker’s favorite flower – and making it obvious to the deadman that he didn’t forget that detail – would be enough to motivate the other, but clearly he was still as shy as always, despite everything that happened between them.

Improvisation or not though, Goldust knew what he wanted that night, and he was sure to get it. And he was pretty sure Undertaker would want it to, when all was said and done.

Oh, Goldust was sure to enjoy that.


End file.
